1. This area is known as the Southern Grasslands. Several cities bridged by suburbs and small villages are where the region's populace were dispersed. There was a small tribal population, living apart from the more civilized areas. Many farmlands make up the province as you move away from the population centers.

2. To the north east is the largest province, the Northern Grasslands. There are several military bases here between the various cities. Most of the population lives here. The cities are all connected by highways and rail. Shipping is big here, mostly between the two Grasslands. The mountains to the northeast were being mined for diamonds. Some gold can be found by the mountain range near the southeastern part of the province, where the mountain streams join the small river.

There were routes across the White River, the main river that separated the western provinces from the eastern ones.

3. Throughout Fire Valley, different tribes interacted in small, barely modernized villages located along the fertile river land. They get by with fishing and trading amongst themselves. Weapons have leaked to the tribes and skirmishes have been known to happen.

4. This was the capital province. Here the climate was sandy and at its most arid. The command and control structure would be found here, from politicians to military leadership. Generals made their homes in mansions located in the middle of the desert in gated communities. There was a small town amongst the bases where civilians worked the shipping industry. A lot of it was done by helicopter, with all the mountains and the river in the way. There was a rail and highway route that led down towards the urban area and the ports around point 5.

5. The Bay of Khalifiya and the city at the port there were integral to military operations and life for all people in Al-Khalifiya. Amongst naval bases, cranes loaded containers onto large vessels. Supplies went northeast towards the capital province and then southwest and across White River and down to the Grasslands. More often aircraft transportation was utilized with every province, except for Fire Valley, possessing at least one airport. Many civilians lived and worked at small towns up and down the highway and rail, manning an industry along the route.

*A Note On Scale:The map is 8000 square miles (approximately). The density works out to be the population of Rhode Island in an area with just over twice as many square miles. If something looks out of scale like a river or mountain range, just assume its not a perfect map but more like a simple zoo map that just gives a good overview of where things are. Areas 1 and 2 are the most dense. 3 is the least.

Areas of Operation (AO)

A - This is one of the more peaceful sectors. It is the northern farmland on the edge of the desert grasslands. Resistance is sporadic and comes in the form of IEDs and mortar attacks. Recently, there has been increased enemy sniper activity.

B - Sector B monitors the most heavily populated sector in the grasslands. There are tenement buildings, some of which are ten stories tall. There is also a section with tall office buildings, which housed several state organizations and businesses. It's the closest you can find to a commercial district in the communist country. The last Loyalist Battalion was defeated here in the summer of 2016.

C - This sector is the southern end of the large population center to the city-state's west. It also houses the city's industrial district to the west. There are mostly tightly packed, sand-colored homes here. There is more poverty here than in Sector B. This is one of the most active districts in the war against the Red Wind. The enemy is known for drawing soldiers into the dense residential areas.

D - This is another agricultural district, the southern end of the grasslands. The largest state run farms can be found here. It was home to a training camp that was destroyed by a flight of A-10s. Now resistance is sporadic as the Red Wind is focusing on occasional hit and run attacks. There has been a wave of drive by shootings on military checkpoints in late August 2016.

E - Some of the last few Red Wind leaders are hiding out in the mountains here in the area known as West Fire Valley. It's known for it's pomegranate trees and the tall palm tree grove that flanks the long lake. Poor subsistence farmers live along the oasis. At night, some take pot shots at passing patrols. The Red Wind gains influence by paying these poor people. They are struggling under the burden of the crumbling communist economy. Local units are trying to win over locals by renovating local schools.

F - This is East Fire Valley or simply, Fire Valley. The Red Wind is fairly active here, making this one of the most dangerous sectors. The Vannish Foreign Legion just rotated out of the sector after really making headway against the insurgency. The enemy is especially active at night, having been found with night vision optics and lasers. Much of the population here is tribal, with different clans vying for power. The Legion did well to bring several tribes on their side, but some still do not trust the coalition.

G - All the largest ports are in this sector. Vangaziland and her allies are constantly landing supplies and equipment on these beaches and ports. Holding this territory is essential. The Navy is responsible for patrolling the airspace here, sharing the duty with the Air Force units in the other sectors. Resistance mostly comes in the form of IEDs and attempts to harass shipping.

H - This is one of the largest and most diverse sectors. The city-state's capital is located in a town on the base of the hills. There is more important coastline and one northern port. This is also one of the most arid sectors in a lot of places, with miles and miles of sand dunes. Residents live mostly near an oasis and creeks that flow from it, with palm groves running along that narrow stretch.

Prime Minister Hank Goodson spoke to cameras at the capital early Wednesday morning. The media has been awaiting news on Al-Khalifiya from him for days, after he promised a big announcement.

Many hoped he would announce the start of a withdrawal of Vannish forces. The conflict has waged on for over a year. Many Vangazi are starting to grow weary of the conflict. During the past six months, there have been dozens of protests across Vangaziland. Most of them focus on defense spending and not the war per say. The attack launched by the Red Wind was heinous. But the Vangazi public is starting to wonder how long we will have to stay abroad.

"Fellow Vangazi, esteemed allies... I bring good news", started the Prime Minister. "The end is in sight. We are not there yet. But we are in the middle of our last push. We are in the midst of a surge. Allies from nations far and wide, like the Unified Isles, Gebeta, New Hayesalia, the United Remnants of America and Outer Laurasia are making it possible for us to move towards a drawdown. In the meantime, Coalition numbers are swollen."

The Prime Minister also spoke on recent operations.

"You may have heard the last Loyalist battalion was rooted out. Their tanks are destroyed, their officers have surrendered. The People's Khalifiyan Army has been our ally for months. Now it is official. We are working with the people of Al-Khalifiya. Humanitarian Aid is being distributed through the Order of the Purple Cross, even in the most remote villages of the city-state."

Goodson avoided any timelines for withdrawl, but spoke on the matter.

"By Christmas, we should be able to completely reevaluate our number of forces in theater. We won't be mission complete, but we'll know where we stand by then."

The past three weeks have shown an increase in violence across Al-Khalifiya. The Red Wind's current leader, Baqi Navid El-Ghazzawy released a video praising his force's summer campaign. He vowed to bring the fight to the enemy and never surrender.

Coalition forces have also stepped up their operations. Troop numbers have increased as large numbers of units have broken the country off into sectors. Vannish Troop levels are at an all time high. Many are expecting a reduction in numbers soon. The Red Wind's summer offensive has caused a delay in the drawdown.

One unit that recently returned home was the 3rd battalion, 2nd Vannish Foreign Legion Regiment. They spent six months in Al-Khalifiya. They were recently replaced when units from the 16th AIrborne Cavalry unit took over the sector. The unit worked in the Fire Valley, home to the Tribes of al-Khalifiya.

A local was interviewed by a Vannish cable news journalist recently. He was asked for his impression of the Vannish legion. His words were translated from Arabic.

"They were very professional. If there was a problem in the village, they would try to fix it. They keep the Red Wind away at night. I don't have any problems with these people. We were taught outsiders are all malicious. It's not true."

The Vannish Foreign Legion had conducted a massive public relations campaign in the Fire Valley, doing things like repairing schools and working with farmers. They worked with multiple tribes. Not all tribesmen were as welcoming as the man interviewed. Some fought the Foreign Legion at night. There have been multiple sniping incidents and bombings over the summer in the remote region.

The Red Wind just won't seem to go away. Meanwhile, the Coalition strengthens its resolve and prepares to deliver a knockout blow.

In a rather unprecedented move, the Vanguard of Outer Laurasia has deployed troops without alerting the public. Indeed, the first hint of soldiers being deployed to the small, far-off nation of Al-Khalifiya was a sudden interruption of scheduled programming by none other than Wendi Jiang, Junior Vanguard member of Xijing Province.

The forty-five year old, seen dressed in her own camouflaged Army uniform, was flanked by a security team armed with rifles as she spoke about the need to help the populace. Wendi, known for her oratory skill, has often been seen as the de facto "speaker" for the Vanguard during her tenure, although no such title officially exists.

"This is necessary, comrades," she began to speak. Her cultured Xijing dialect was translated into Arabic subtitles on the bottom of the screen. "We could not allow a security breach before we sent our relief effort over. By now, there is no secret about the strength of our forces: an infantry battalion, and three support companies. One medical, one food, and one engineer."

Miss Jiang went on to speak about the deplorable condition of affected areas, how some people lacked basic amenities like food and water due to the war. The support battalions have been deployed in the port region of the nation, or in military terms, "AO George".

She also spoke directly to the Red Wind, the rogue terror group claiming itself as communist.

"I feel sorry for you who have joined the Red Wind. Know that it is not over. This is a call for you to lay down your weapons and let us reach a peaceful conclusion. This isn't what Marx would want. If you are able to, get away from your group and make your way to our camp or one belonging to our allies. I can promise that you will be treated with compassion."

As she talked to the cameras, troops and personnel carriers deployed from landing craft, utilizing the infrastructure already in place to set up their own forward operating base. The hospital and kitchen began to accept visitors, and sleeping quarters were established for soldiers and refugees within the span of six hours.

No clue was given on the duration of the mission, other than "short, hopefully". It is speculated that the Red Wind is on its last legs, thanks to other members of the Coalition.

Earlier this week Gebetan forces started a movement of men and material via Kriegsmarine forces.

Information from attaches confirms that the forces from the Kriegsmarine will be leaving the ships in the coming days, coinciding with the arrival of non-naval borne units as well. The Primary task of the force is to provide mobile airlift and close air support with JTACS on the ground.

The Luftwaffe tells us that JTACS have proven successful in prior missions.

Command believes that it has no need to have numerous boots on the ground as other nations are taking task with that. But, they stress the importance of inter-command unity to provide the forces on the ground with fast and accurate strikes that save allied lives.

When asked if there would be a step up in forces deployed, all that was said that it would be an increase if fixed wing forces. Gebetan JTACS can tune radios with allied forces to call upon numerous aircraft from Gunship Helicopters to the Fixed Wing Gunship that has proven to reduces casualties simply with it being in the air, as an intermediating factor.

The Forces deploying were to move out at once, keeping in close formation as to allow Gunships time to target to aide forces under attack. High above would be 3 winged Gunships as well as a VTOL Attacker flying at altitude with the gunships in an effort to remain unseen. The Vtol Gunship was stationed with the ships would fly out to join the Winged Gunships.

In about 7 hours they would start the mission, code-named Emancipation by Gebetan High Command,

After the forces made landings at the airbase for refueling and unloading of supplies, several helicopters would fly out to distribute the JTACS to local forces as well as allied forces.

In a statement made to the press today, President Gabriel Drake released a multi-piece statement on the situation in the faraway nation of Al-Khalifiya, as well as the wayward nation's recent conflict and Remnant ally Vangaziland's involvement in the nation.

"Vangaziland has spent the last year fighting a war of liberation in Al-Khalifiya with no support from the international community. And single-handedly, they have overthrown a government, armed a populace, and given voice to an oppressed people. They now fight a guerilla war against an insurgent populace alone. That loneliness will now end."

"The URA, as well as a coalition of other nations, are lending our support to take the strain of our ally. Proud Remnant soldiers will now stand shoulder to shoulder with our Vangazi friends, and our newfound Lauraisian and Gebetan partners. Together, we will crush the guerilla Red Wind forces and finally bring peace to the nation and the people of Al-Khalifiya."

President Drake followed these statements with a plan to send a trio of Ares class Amphibious Assault Ships from the 4th Navy to transport Remnant ground forces as well as air support. This small task fleet will be escorted by Charon Replenishment Ship, a pair of Hades frigates, and a Metis class littoral combat ship. This seven-ship task fleet will be carrying all the supplies and personnel required for four battalions of the Remnant 9th Army to set up a forward operating base. The 41st Engineering Battalion, 16th Supply Battalion, 82nd Logistics Battalion, and 111th Medical Battalion are all being sent, with platoon-sized attachments from the 1st Administration Battalion and 182nd Special Services Battalion. In total, almost 4,100 personnel are being dispatched just to set up a base in Al-Khalifiya. As far as operations on the nation is concerned, the 3rd Sentinel Battalion has been activated and dispatched as well, and will be providing the back of the operations the URA plans to undertake in the nation. They'll be supported with drivers and vehicles from the 9th Army battalions staffing the base, as well as four V-24 Swift Fox multirole VTOLs and two AV-24 Foxhawk Attack VTOLs, giving the battalion an array of movement across the country. Drake didn't comment on the length of this deployment, but reassured the people this would not be another North Afrika war.

In the final moments of the speech, President Drake addressed Red Wind, the terrorist guerilla force of Al-Khalifiya, directly. "The organization known as Red Wind has been officially designated as terrorists by the Remnant National Intelligence Agency," Drake said. "So know this, members of Red Wind and those assisting them: Your card has been called. You will not get mercy from the URA. Your death will be quick, and it will be painless. Your families will never learn of your fate, but if they seek to help you, they will join you. If you aid or abet Red Wind in any way, your fate will be the same. If you try to run, we will track you down. If you try to hide, we will move mountains to find you. If you try to fight, you'll be defeated. If you try to surrender, you'll be cut down. Mercy does not exist for those who lack the ability to give it. Our soldiers will not hesitate, nor will they question anyone's loyalty. If our people find you, and your loyalty is in doubt, you will be marked a terrorist, and you will meet a very quick end. Your end is near. Good night."

- Sasha Grey, Junior Correspondent, RNN

In other news:- The Red Wind: A History- Namenian Civil War- The GRCS: Empire or Trade Union?- IFC Changes Faces

By any means necessary. Call me URA

Winner of 2015 Best of P2TM Awards: Best Roleplayer - War

"I would much rather be with you than against you, you're way too imaginative."- Cafla"URA New Confucius 2015."- Organized States"Congrats. You just won the second place prize for Not Giving a Fuck. First Place, of course, always goes to Furry."- New Jordslag"He's an 8 Ball, DEN. You can't deal with an 8 Ball." - Empire of Donner land"This Rp is flexible with science and so will you." - Tagali Federation"Unfiltered, concentrated, possibly weaponized stupidity."

The 5th River Patrol Flotilla is a Coast Guard Reserve unit out of New Brook, Vangaziland. The unit is made up mostly of conscripts serving their mandatory military service. Senior NCOs and officers are volunteers who have extended from their basic commitments. The average enlisted sailor here is serving their 18 months of service.

Sailors deployed on this operation had to volunteer. They also had to reenlist to extend out through the duration of their deployment. In truth, the Coast Guard was one of the most selective of the Conscript units. Their numbers were smaller, so they could be more picky than a big branch like the Army.

The 5th RPF operates the Mark V Special Operations Craft as a river patrol boat. They have spent the past two months patrolling the White River, the large waterway that cuts the city-state in half. The Coast Guard patrols bridges, monitors river traffic and conducts port security.

They have been known to take fire. The latest incident took place on September 14th. A sniper fired at a passing boat. One sailor was wounded in the arm. The boat rushed to the nearest port, where a medevac helicopter carried the casualty to a field hospital.

"We don't think of ourselves as conscripts", said 27 year old crewman Alexander Langley. "We are professional sailors. We train hard every week back at home. Since we've started our operations, we've cut into the Red Wind's smuggling. They are being forced to change their tactics. But we are adjusting too."

The terror cell has been moving weapons, personnel and gear up and down the river. Since the Coast Guard has started their operations, the Red Wind has changed their river operations to night. So the 5th RPF has picked up their nighttime operations tempo. Every night is a high stakes game of cat & mouse.

Usually the Red Wind tries to move supplies just a few miles down the river, hoping to avoid the patrols.

"There is a lot of river to search", said lieutenant junior grade Allan Kanter. "They know this and use it to their advantage. But we keep in contact with different rotary units. We've got eyes all along the river." Navy Seahawk helicopters rotate in and out of River duty.

The 5th RPF is the only Conscript unit deployed in the Khalifiyan theater. The other Vannish forces are from the volunteer military.

"We know this mission is asking a lot of these sailors", said Commodore Shawn Faye, the man in charge of Vannish Coast Guard conscripts. "So far they have exceeded expectations. Their mission is not easy though, not with the current way the Red Wind is operating. They are the best unit for the job though, and I have faith they'll help make a difference in the city-state."

Vangaziland did not have to deploy this unit. They could have gone with a Riverine unit from the Navy. We know a meeting took place between flag officers of the Navy and the Coast Guard. The latter wanted to make sure it got involved in the conflict. Coast Guard admiralty wanted to make sure their service looked relevant in the current conflict. Funding was at stake.

Some people would be surprised to know, the unit is not all male. There are nine women on the current roster. It's a small number, but these women play important roles. Two are officers, two are NCOs, one drives a boat, the rest man weapon systems.

"Out here it's all about the team", said Petty Officer Second Class Amy Lokee. "We don't focus on differences, or who is who. We focus on the mission. We're like a machine."

The 5th RPF has a long road ahead, with about seven months left in their deployment.

Al-Khalifiya, 16th of the Autumn, 2016 - The 1st Seperate Mountain Infantry Brigade of the Royal Army will take over the Area of Operation F within the occupied territories of Al-Khalifiya by next monday. First assets of the 1st Mountain had already arrived some fortnights prior to get introduced into the workings of the Vannish 16th Airborne Cavalry Division, which had controlled the more mountainious South of Al-Khalifiya up until now.

In addition to the help granted by our Vannish Brothers-in-Arms, additionally Isle'ish Officer that were formely assigned to the VFL have returned to the Royal Army. The VFL only recently rotated out of the so-called "Fire Valley". "The experience of the Royal Soldiers serving in the Vannish lines shall be of high importance in the coming weeks, considerable their knowledge of country.", said the Isle'ish Co-Commandant of the Vannish-Isle'ish Office of Military Cooperation VIOMC.

Additional "Local Knowledge" shall come from the 1st International Regiment of Sharpshooters, an Infantry Regiment currently assigned to the 1st Mountain Brigade. The 1st Sharpshooters recruit most of their personnel from foreign nations, including most notably Vangaziland. The most worth-while asset will probably be it's small amount of Khalifiyan Soldiers, including Lance-Sharpshooter Omar Safi, who was short-handedly re-assigned from the 25th Rifles. An interview with Master Safi will be in one of our upcoming issues.

The "Fire Valley" in which the 1st Mountain Brigade will deploy is one of the most dangerous areas of operation, being one of the last remaining areas with a well-structured Red Wind activity. The Isle'ish Expeditionary Command under Major General (bvt) Gauthier hopes to decisively stabilize the region in the up-coming months.

Read in the next issue(s): Lance-Sharpshooter Safi - A Royal Soldier returns homePater Gremark and his "Religious School Program" for Al-KhalifiyaBrigadier Gauthier - Portrait of an Officer

[In the following is the overview of Officer Promotions, Awardings and Honourings, Dispatches, Wounded and Fallen List]

Laurasian Army Engineers are seen here practicing barbed wire and defensive log deployments on the beach of AO George. This will help prepare them for their operations in Fire Valley later this week.A Coordination of Efforts16 SEP 2016

As the final stakes of the Laurasian Expeditionary Force are driven into the ground, a quietness has set around the camp. Soldiers are no longer concerned with building their own amenities, but with what is to come. The soldiers of the 3rd Battalion, 2nd Regiment, 2nd Infantry Division, known in the Army as the 3-2-2, won't hesitate to explain why.

"Everybody knows what's coming," Corporal Lydia Lyv stated plainly to reporters in her barracks. "Fire Valley. The Vangazis just rotated out, and we heard they did a good job. We're picking up where they left off. That mostly means helping people, but I think the reports of night attacks have got people spooked."

Corporal Lyv set up her map and compass, showing us why Fire Valley was considered so dangerous. "You got mountains on both sides," she announced, chewing through a pack of gum. She says she's a smoker, and a recent fault by command to pack nearly any cigarettes has left soldiers eating through all the gum they get in their MREs. "And because of that, you only got one way in and one way out. If you get surrounded down there, it's over. Not to mention how easy it'd be for snipers to corner us."

The Corporal says she's seen action around the oceans of Laurasia, hauling her machine gun with her wherever she goes. Because of Laurasia's peaceful nature, rarely have any of these missions escalated beyond security operations, something she's glad for. "My AG[assistant gunner] and AB[ammunition bearer] don't seem to think so, though. Lugging an MG3's tough, but you know what's tougher? Carrying all the ammo."

The news crew goes to have lunch, but later we meet up again with Corporal Lyv just before an exercise- specifically, the last exercise before the inevitable deployment. She's not alone this time as she was before, and is flanked by the other members of her MG team.

"As a machine gunner, my role isn't direct fire. If I see an opportunity to kill an enemy, I'll take it, but the constant spray of an MG3's usually more than enough to convince them to keep their heads down. That allows an assault element to get up close. If we can flush'em out with smoke, great. If they can surrender, great. And if they decide not to surrender and we have to get the mortar team to level the place? Well, not so great. But as long as none of my guys get hurt, that's fine."

Corporal Lyv and the rest of the 3-2-2 will be deployed into Fire Valley by Monday. Here's wishing them luck.

The First wave of forces took off from the carriers Deshronka and Peter Strass, along with fixed-wing air support. They were heading towards the coastal area of operations. One of the last aircraft to leave was the Offensive Recon Combat Aircraft Bomber, and it quickly climbed up to meet the fixed-wing gunships.

The Gunships were to act as the orbital commands for the ingress part of the mission, turning over to the ground side CnC upon arrival at the air base. The Gunships were outfitted with weapons. They carried 2 40MM guns, 2 Vulcans and 12 ATGMS that were synced with the nose infra red pod.

The ORCA Bomber was equipped with 1800 lbs of bombs, all in unguided free-fall form, as well as a nose mounted 15mm cannon. Its tail booms had a 4 shot iron dome like system, that was in trial phase similar to the ORCA. It proved successful on drone tests, but there was a larger difference in a Drone heat signature and a Fan lifted aircraft.

The Rest of the unit was made up of fast movers and heavy movers as so called in the Gebetan forces. The Fast movers had 50 Cal pintle mounted guns on each door, while the heavys had 40mm guns on the tail ramp.

Flying above the helicopters was the escorts of VTOL fighters, F35 like planes, as well as the Escort Gunships in the form of AH7s, akin to that of a Apache gunship.

There had been reports of MANPADS along the anticipated flight route, but it was assumed flying low would help defeat them by remaining hidden from much of the target zones. The Gunships would flare any attacks, as well as retaliate.

Unfortunately, the movers were also under slung load, carrying the forces equipment and living quarters.

One of the fast movers was not under load, and this one carried 2 JTACS that were to be attached to the Laurasia Marines to coordinate Airstrikes fromt he Gebetan Luftwaffe in the area.

Baqi Navid El-Ghazzawy was the most wanted man in Al-Khalifiya. His right hand man was Sulaiman Al Rahim. Under those two were a handful of lieutenants that were spread across the city state. These leaders were the men responsible for running the Red Wind. They ran a network financed by an underground network of black market deals. El-Ghazzawy was a man who made lots of money in the Communist nation's underground. This gave him power and influence.

He was a man in favor with the previous government of Al-Khalifiya. Even though the last Loyalist battalion has been rooted out and destroyed, there are still those loyal to the old government. Their ranks number in the thousands. Most of them stay underground. Many act as support and not fighters. They house terrorists and help them move between the districts. They may cook for the Red Wind. Some are medical staff that treat the sick and injured.

The underground network is complex. The New Government has shut down Red Wind bank accounts and frozen assets. But the Red Wind has lots of cash assets, which is what they have been surviving on. Like the mafia known in Vannish movies, the Red Wind also makes money off extortion, shaking down local businesses and citizens for protection money.

Vangaziland started a hotline, crewed by Khalifiyans where citizens could place anonymous tips on the Red Wind. They would then work with the Khalifiyan police. They would usually have to collect evidence to help prove their claim before an arrest would be made. There have been many false reports. Sometimes it is the result of a dispute between rivals, hoping to get their enemy arrested.

The Khalifiyan police and Vannish military conducted thorough investigations on all arrested personnel. There have been quite a few times where arrests turned violent and operatives fired on the police or military to resist custody.

El-Ghazzawy made headlines on September 16th by releasing yet another video. The background was rocky, indicating he was hiding out somewhere in a mountainous cavern. This time he addresses the international coalition.

"Welcome to the quagmire", El-Ghazzawy told the cameras. "This is a war you cannot win. Your efforts will fail. The Vannish Empire does not have your nation's best interests in mind. You are blindly following them and their imperialistic ways. Our people will hold true."

El-Ghazzawy brandished a gold plated AK-74 submachine gun, pointing it at the camera.

"This is the only thing you will find here. More gunsmoke", El-Ghazzawy continued. He continued to spit propaganda and put down the coalition.

On September 16, the news showed a clip of Vannish special forces with blurred faces searching through caves. The footage was all cleared by the government after making sure no sensitive information was revealed. The clip was actually Vannish propaganda. They knew El-Ghazzawy watched the news every night. They wanted him to know special forces were looking for him.

Friday was the hottest day of the week, reaching 112 degrees Fahrenheit. Humidity is higher near the coast. Strong winds from the northeast keep the wind moving, although it can feel like a fan blowing warm air. The summer was even hotter, when temperatures often soared above 120 degrees Fahrenheit.

A Vannish summer day might be 82 degrees Fahrenheit. This weather was something the Vangazi would have to acclimate to on an individual basis. Some soldiers would have a tougher time adjusting. Most found it was surprisingly easy to adapt to the desert climate. The international coalition would also have to cope with the weather.

Meanwhile, Chancellor Omar Khaleef also gave a speech on Friday. He is the leader of the New Khalifiyan Government. "A surge of international soldiers is flooding the country, along with a massive humanitarian aid operation. The goal is to lay the straw that will break the camel's back. The Red Wind will not be able to last much longer. We are closing in on them. We are seizing their assets, slowly but surely."

The Chancellor praised the coalition. "To our brothers and sisters from overseas, allow me to thank you on behalf of the people. Your sacrifices will help us build Al-Khalifiya into a modern nation. I dream that our city-state will bloom into a modern example of social engineering. A true nation for the people, by the people."

He also had something to announce.

"Brothers and sister of Khalifiya, I bring a major announcement that will affect all of our futures. Our nation has been accepted into the Geiselstadt Convention. This is an alliance of left wing nations of all types. They may also get involved with the operation to cleanse our city-state of the Red Wind's plague. Our nation is advancing into the 21st century. Gone are the days of oppression. We will mold a progressive future."

It was a busy day in the desert. Joint Vannish-Khalifiyan patrols conducted a few search and seizure operations in several sectors. They were acting on intelligence from the operation against the last loyalist battalion. The mission culminated with the arrest of dozens of prisoners. They were all secure in a facility and were being interrogated for information on the underground movement.

As the new forces became integrated, they would find they are paired with a specific battalion in the People's Khalifiyan Army. They may or may not work much with their unit. But they would share the same sectors. It would depend how each unit interacted with their team.

It has been a mostly quiet week as far as violence is concerned. Some wonder what this lull represents. Analysts say it may be the calm before a storm.

On a normal day in the mainland of the URA, where Tony had grown up before enlisting in the Army, the average temperature was around 15 degrees Celsius. Here, someone had mentioned it had hit almost 45. That was insane. It was even hotter than most days in the Remnant Colonies, and the Colonies was a damned desert! Tony had soaked his PT shirt under his uniform clean through before he'd even been here an hour. He was now going on about twelve in this godforsaken country. Some of Tony's boys who grew up in the Colonies, their skin permanently tanned from the intense sunlight, said it wasn't that big of a change. But Tony spent his childhood in the rain and clouds that constantly hung over Olympia, the URA's sprawling megacity capital of some two-hundred and fifty million people.

Tony glanced around at the intense work lights that hung all over the encampment as a seemingly never-ending line of trucks, humvees, and armored vehicles moved back and forth between here and the port where the Remnant Navy ships were unloading their gear before they took off back for the homeland for a resupply. They'd be gone a month at the shortest, three at the longest, which meant the people here would be on their own with what they and the rest of the coalition had until then.

The Sentinel captain walked under a work tent so he could shield himself from the glare of the lights. A table with schematics scattered over it was under the tent, and Tony decided to take a look. A few weeks before the Remnants had arrived, the Vannish had worked out a deal with the URA on a location to hammer out the beginnings of the base they'd be staying at. It was in Sector H, just over the line from Sector G, and it sat between the coast and the mountains in a gentle little valley plain. Nearby was a road leading back towards the ports, and if followed, the road would take them further north to the capital, which was also in Sector H. All in all, it was a nice place for the base. In the corner of the blueprint was a name, "FOB Wilderness." A very applicable name, FOB Wilderness was to date the furthest Remnant military presence from the URA except for embassy guard contingents.

Outside the tent, there was a flurry of activity. Vannish and Remnant engineers were finishing up the base's outer perimeter with Hesco and sandbags, and there was Vannish paving equipment making a place for six helipads, which would be the space for the half-dozen VTOLs that had been transported with the forces. The VTOLs were too big to be carried on anything but the Ares assault ships, so they'd waited until the fleet was halfway to Al-Khalifiya and used the Ares as stopping points to refuel and get to a Vannish airbase in Al-Khalifiya. They were now waiting for the pavement here at Wilderness to set so they could move here.

Tony took a moment to pull a tablet from his right pantleg and tapped the screen to look at the list. As already known, the VTOLs were at Airbase Hofstedder. The ships were down at the port in G, unloading before they moved back. The 41st Engineering Battalion, known in short as the 41/166, was assisting the Vannish engineers in putting the final touches on Wilderness' defenses. The 16th Supply Battalion, the 16/162, was at Wilderness stocking shelves and unloading the trucks while the 82nd Logistics Battalion, the 82/169, was in charge of the various trucks and was working with Vannish supply units to move things twice as fast. They were mainly moving ammunition and fuel at this point, as food and equipment had already been moved earlier today. The 11th Medical Battalion, the 11/162 was setting up in Wilderness' field hospital. There was talk about teaming up with the locally-operating humanitarian units and other coalition medical units, but at this stage, it was easier just setting up a quick facility. On top of this, there was a garrison of administrative personnel to communicate with other coalition units and the run the base while some special service personnel had also tagged along to do tasks such as cooking and cleaning. The base really was spartan for supplies. The only flight mechanics that had come were troops who had rated it as a side specialty and the actual flight crews of the VTOLs.

Finally, Tony's 3rd Sentinel Battalion, of Remnant Operational Command, the URA's special forces unit. Sentinels were the URA's premier special unit and had more general performance than their sister SF organizations; the Marshals and Vanguard. Sentinels currently did everything from small-scale warfare to guarding the President and everything in between. Currently, the Sentinels were guarding the route between the port and Wilderness, as well as the start and end point of the current transporting line. Right now, there was only a single squad from 2nd Company out doing a patrol, but soon, patrols would be increased once regular operations had started, and they could use the handful of armored vehicles and humvees as well as the VTOLs to start flying on down to the south of Al-Kalifiya so they can join the coalition in operations.

As far as those operations went, Childress had been given very strict orders, which he was wont to stick to. Childress was the captain of the Sentinels, and while the other battalions had captains and majors in charge, he'd been given the command responsibility of the URA operation in Al-Kalifiya. That meant Childress was singularly responsible for anything good, and anything bad, that happened to Remnant troops in this region. He was also responsible with the RoE of all Sentinels on patrol. The RoE was simple here, though. So simple, in fact, that Wilderness was purposely made without a holding center for prisoners.

"Captain Childress? Captain Conway wants to speak with you."

Tony looked from his tablet at the corporal standing at the flap of the work tent. He had no cover on his head, he was unarmed, and he stood as if he wasn't wearing body armor. Upon closer inspection, Childress noted he had a Medical patch on his shoulder, meaning he probably drew a short straw and got sent here from the field hospital on the other side of the base, which made sense, since Major Conway was Medical's CO.

"Yeah?" Childress responded, "And what's Paul want?"

The corporal, slightly surprised at Tony's relaxed response, took a moment before responding. Are all Sentinels like this? "He told me to tell you that he was contacted about Kalifiyan units supporting us and he wanted to defer to you and speak to you in person, sir."

Childress nodded and put away his tablet into the cargo pocket of his pants, "Alright, let's go, Corporal." He lifted the R18 Assault Rifle and held it firmly in both hands as he walked. Despite what report the Vannish gave his people, this was still not a cherry place, and if somebody started popping rounds at his people, he didn't want to be stuck with his nose up his own ass smelling yesterday's rations.

This was going to be a long deployment.

By any means necessary. Call me URA

Winner of 2015 Best of P2TM Awards: Best Roleplayer - War

"I would much rather be with you than against you, you're way too imaginative."- Cafla"URA New Confucius 2015."- Organized States"Congrats. You just won the second place prize for Not Giving a Fuck. First Place, of course, always goes to Furry."- New Jordslag"He's an 8 Ball, DEN. You can't deal with an 8 Ball." - Empire of Donner land"This Rp is flexible with science and so will you." - Tagali Federation"Unfiltered, concentrated, possibly weaponized stupidity."

In the heart of the urban area of the city Anglician forces had been hard at work for days on end, a dilapidated tower had been taken control of an was being transformed into a hospital while a barracks, mess hall, and basic needs had been carved out of the surrounding blocks. The area had been hit pretty hard by the war and was abandoned, thus its new inhabitants had renovated it entirely. An area of about three city blocks had been turned into what was now officially known as Forward Operating Base Nightingale and was home to the newly named first through third Improvised Medical Companies that had been drawn together just for this function. Location had been perfect, former warehouses in the area permitted easy storage of transport vehicles and helicopters while a range had been set up for training along with a kill house for further courses. The shop house was where occupations of all sorts would be taught, there was never a dull moment in Nightingale though as injured came in every day without end. The best were simple gun shot wounds while some of the worst were little kids stepping on IEDs or somehow surviving being strapped with weapons and explosives - the kids were always the worst casualties.

Today was the actual first day of the base being fully operational as the engineering squads had fixed up all the buildings to great condition. The communication hub dispatched notice to the medical evacuation teams that there was a firefight about a mile away in the denser part of the city. While work started for some at six in the morning work never ended for those standing between the innocent and the wicked. A platoon from the first medical combat company was dispatched with an attached vehicular unit to handle the situation. The Golden Hour's hourglass had already been flipped and every grain of sand mattered.

"Mount up, we got work to do!" Sentinels in the C.S. Knights were junior officers, thus Sentinel Bradley was the officer of this band. Crimson Platoon had gathered into their modified armored vehicles that were more like ambulances on steroids painted with a flat desert color with a turret glaring from atop it. Legionnaire Corporals Bates, Hayes, and Owen were skilled in the art of cavalry warfare and drove in the manner they had been taught, which to most would be labeled as risky and foolish, cavalry school taught the drivers to slow down and line up for the turn before increasing speed as much as possible to recover it; this tactic proved itself as they navigated the sparsely populated streets with a balancing act between recklessness and skillfulness that would have easily earned them a seat in ANARC as top tier drivers.

Despite the audible blasts of gunfire as they neared the danger zone the convoy came down a side road and parked not too far from the conflict. Several military aged males were firing at a building that looked to be a store, "Sent, they might be local militia responding to some attackers being held up in that building?" One hospitaller knight viewed the fire exchange through a set of binoculars before handing them to the Sentinel. "Could be." The convoy began pulling closer to the scene as it was hard to tell who was who and they did not want to start taking shots at people considering local relations were bad enough for the coalition as it was without them accidentally shooting friendlies. As the convoy got within easy viewing range of the situation they saw a small figure run from the building under fire, it was a little boy, his small lifeless figure struck the sandy pavement - it was obvious now to Bradley they should have shot first and asked questions later. As soon as the boy had been seen Hospitaller Howard shoved his door open, behind him came two other men, as they charged the group of wicked men the vehicle's turret opened fire and rippled them with rounds. The secondary vehicle took point and guarded the area as the medicals went to work.

"He is losing blood and going into shock, he needs blood!" Howard was doing chest compressions on the boy in an attempt to keep his heart beating. "Come on, kid, stay with me!" The team's other medicals had secured the rest of the wounded from inside the building and began treating them. Howard was back to back with another hospitaller who was dealing with an elderly man that had been shot to the left side of his chest. "How's your patient, Ladykiller?" Howard caught the blood pack as it was tossed to him and immediately hooked it up to the boy, "He is tough, took three rounds to the collar, stomach, and left leg. Your guy?"

"They caught him in the collar bone, apparently this all started as an argument over protection money, fuckin' extortion. Bastards shot these people over money!" The medic swore as his head hung low, "I lost him." They had arrived too late to save the elder man, his age and injury had put him in critical condition well before they arrived. "Let me help you." Howard made room for his now partner as they both began operating. "I got compressions, you get to bandaging him now." With haste Howard began to limit the blood flow with a thick band that he wrapped around the boy's leg. From there a quick clotting agent was poured into the heavily bleeding wounds. "Stay with us, kid, we gotcha." Howard had taken the blood transfusion bag back from his friend as the latter ran back to the vehicle to get another bag. It was at this point a truck moved toward them from down the street and turned its side to them, there was a machine gun mounted to the bed of the vehicle.

Howard moved putting his body in front of the boy as he sat there with his weight balanced on one knee, his left hand holding the transfusion bag as his right drew his M1980P. His face contorted into a sadistic smile as he began firing his pistol towards that damned truck as it pushed a fiery barrage of Hell towards the convoy. Corporal Bates is the one whose fast action ended the event before any real damage had been done, as soon as it became clear the truck was going to open fire he had accelerated and slammed his armored vehicle into it disabling the truck and instantly killing its driver while causing a good deal of damage to his own vehicle. The gunner had been thrown from the truck bed and was now running, a hospitaller who had been in the back of the humvee gave chase and tackled him. After being joined by several others they laid into the perpetrator with their fists until he was subdued. Once incapacitated his hands were zip tied together and he was thrown in the back of one of the humvees for questioning back at base.

Howard however sighed with relief as he still sat there on his right knee with pistol and transfusion bag in hand. Declaring the child stable he called over help in lifting him into the transport humvee along with another wounded man who had been shot in the hand. Their patients needed further medical aid and it was a possibility more hostiles would show up, thus the convoy mounted up and traveled back to Nightingale. Hospitaller Howard and his team would not see any of those patients a second time, however they felt secure in the knowledge that they had beaten that hourglass against all odds.

As Crimson Platoon waited for another call Howard reflected on the quote he heard that brought him to this occupation, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his fellow man." A sly grin came to his face as he reflected on what had transpired only a mere half hour before, it felt nice to save lives, even if it did mean he would eventually answer one final call. "Yo, Mace, you ever think of it like this?" He called over to a guy across the mess hall who had grabbed a beer can from a cooler, "We go out to unfuck guys who got fucked up, but in the process we might get fucked up; so, if we get fucked up they call a guy in to unfuck us and thus the process starts all over again." The tan skinned hospitaller nodded his head, he had some how understood exactly what Howard said, "I getcha, you are saying that it could start a never ending cycle of of unfucking the fucked up? Never thought of it that way. Well, good thing there's a ton of us, Lady knows we are all dumb as rocks." Mace, who had earned his nickname by volunteering to take a can of pepper spray to the face just to see how it felt, sat opposite of Howard and reviewed a map of the local area as he chowed down on a bowl of some form of pasta, "Heard you saved a kid today." Howard nodded his head as he enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate. "My platoon ran out of tampons so we had to use that quick clotting junk." Howard nodded his head, "Same here, it just doesn't work as well as the tampons in my opinion. Wonder if command would send us some more?" Both men laughed as they thought of that request form. "Dear theater officer, we here at F.O.B. Nightingale would like to request a metric load of tampons, no not for our female patients, for our own use as we go about our jobs." Howard rolled his eyes, "They'd deny it. Do you think private mail would ship us some if we buy in bulk? It took me like six packets to get that kid to stop bleeding and my worry is always internal bleeding after that." Their conversation would continue until it came time for Mace's squad to head out again, this time they were simply responding to some stray dogs roaming the streets - part of the whole hearts and minds thing was to endear themselves to the locals by any means they could do so, one of which was caring for pets and stray animals.

Corporal Lyv stared blindly past the muzzle of her MG3, waiting for the order to pull the trigger. It wasn't her job to decide what to shoot at- no, that order came from the weapons team leader. She and the other two members of her team, ammunition bearer and assistant gunner, passed a single cigarette back and forth, already wearing it down in record time. It was one of the few cigarettes their entire platoon had left, until logistics got airdrops up and running. But nobody knew how far out that was.

This is absolutely shit.

Unfortunately for Lydia, her platoon had "volunteered" to perform reconnaissance of the area. On the other side of her muzzle, there was a small town, one that operatives were said to "potentially" live in. It was, after all, one of the few villages that always remained at odds with the Vangazi troops during their deployment here. Her MG team was known as Apples, and was perched in a small outcropping of rocks. The other, called Butter, was somewhere further to her right, enough that they created a crossfire across the entirety of the village. Rifle squads spread themselves out as they saw fit. Finally, the platoon's vehicles sat occupied by gunners and drivers in case they needed to escape, and platoon HQ sat in the shade, having cast a tarpaulin from one vehicle to the ground.

When she got the cigarette back, it had finally burned down to the butt, and she flicked the orange tip away. Movement had started to pick up. Without a thought, she slid her finger down next to the trigger, poised to fire.

"Hold up." The platoon leader whispered over radio. She glanced over and watched him gaze through his binoculars, then looked back to her potential target. "Think that's our guy. Naveed Karimi. Older male, beard, greying hair. Walks with a limp. Could be him, or we could be looking at an old farmer with a mangled leg." Either way, the man kept moving, in the direction of a rusty Honda.

"He's about to leave," someone from Squad Two called. "Now or never, sir. Orders?"

The air seemed to freeze. Either let this man get away, or open fire on him. He could be the one they've been after, that eluded even Vangazi hands. This would bring the Red Wind that much closer to their end.

Finally, the lieutenant spoke. "Platoon...you are clear to engage. Open fire."

She felt her assistant gunner tense up just as she squeezed the trigger, her MG3's furious muzzle spewed hot lead down range, stopping the man in his tracks. The glass on the truck exploded with each bullet that hit it, even more impacting the sand around the man until one finally caught him in the chest, sending him to the ground. Even as he fell, the torrent of rounds continued. Lydia struggled to control her gun, easing off the trigger to assess the situation.

"Cease fire, cease fire!" the lieutenant called. "Target is down- I repeat, target is down. Someone get eyes on, see if he's moving or not."

"Yeah, he's definitely alive."

"Copy that. I want a fireteam and a medic down there. See if you can tend to him. Who got him, anyway? Was that MG Apples?"

Her assistant gunner gave her a congratulatory thunk on the helmet, and Lydia shuddered. The ammunition bearer opened up her radio. "I believe that was us, sir."

"Good fuckin' shot, Lyv. Haven't seen you shoot like that before."

She didn't respond. a team from Squad Three and a medic got into a vehicle, which dislodged from its spot on the hill and drove down. The cannon swiveled, keeping pointed at the village the entire time until they reached their target. Soldiers crouched around him.

"Identity confirmed. It's him, sir." There was a small holler from the group. They'd finally gotten someone they'd been after. Maybe this would get the surrounding villages to have a little more trust, maybe there would be fewer extortions.

"This takes priority. We're gonna RTB, platoon. Mount up."

And just like that, they were leaving again, plus one gravely wounded man.

O-Day for the New Hayesalians appraoched. The 77th Afloat Forward Staging Group had sailed from their regular patrol to support the Vannish mission, a total of 17 ships and submarines sent to the Al-Khalifiyan mission to launch and support a Marine AFSB Battalion, so aptly named the Lyftward Claudio Deurr Battalion. This unit, and the ship on which they lived, were named for the first commander of the Hayesalian Union Air Force, the rank of Lyftward a unique one amongst foreign air forces. Surely, a man of that great stature would be stunned with the ship named for him.

At almost 400 metres and length and flying the white naval ensign of New Hayesalia with pride, this vessel housed 3,000 Marines from New Hayesalia's small and recently established independent Marine branch. This was of course considering that, in this vessel capable of sustaining 6,000 crew and Marines, 2,145 of them represented the ship's crew and the aviation support sections - necessary for the forty-seven helicopters and ten fixed wing aircraft that flew from the Lyftward's massive flight deck.

Standing on the bridge of his ship was the commander of the entire Group, Rear Admiral Matthew Malik. Surrounded by consoles streaming information to the man, who stood stories over his ship watching tasks be completed on the flight deck. His sailors seperated from the Marines by their coyote and grey uniforms against the sandy green of the Marines, who generally went about conducting personal and maintenance training, keeping skills up to standard on the vessel's four month cruise of this sector.

The warning orders had already come in, and the group had been moved to conduct an armed landing against the nation of Al-Khalifiya by request of New Hayesalia's Vannish allies. With many other nations operating in a patchwork across the country, the NH Marines would serve a key purpose - their large numbers would provide a spine for the other forces to conduct the tricky and dangerous operations, with the New Hayesalians happily in support.

The men were seeing to their requirements and readying themselves for what was to come.

BEFORE SUNRISE, 0-DAY

Sitting some kilometres offshore, the naval defences of this massive troopship stood ready, with everything from sailors on heavy machine guns to the hundreds of missiles of the arsenal ship NHS Mt. Thuit primed. On the deck of the Lyftward, the eight strike fighters and their two electronic warfare comrades had already taken off, their VTOL capacities critically important for the mission at hand. They would guard the skies, even as coalition air forces maintained the greater surrounds.

Huge elevators relayed to the deck from the hangars the arsenal of helicopters and light infantrymen of the Battalion Strike Section, those who were not so fortunate as to have the reliable support of the Javelin IFV, the NH Marine's amphibious mainstay. The helicopters, EC725 Caracals, were joined by larger CH-47 Chinooks, the blaring of helicopter blades on deck being protected by the electronics built on the Marine's AirFrame Combat Helmet, keeping everything to a safe 80dB maximum volume.

In the well deck, Ship to Shore Connectors - huge hovercrafts carrying the Panthera Leo and Arctos tanks providing critical support on the ground - prepared ahead of the amphibious IFVs. More Marines, carrying the Ripper Mk3 rifle and other specialist weapons waited patiently in their sections, knowing the process of unloading the troops who would then proceed to rally points, gradually increasing the security of the operation inland and enhancing New Hayesalia's reach.

In command of the Marines in particular was the aptly titled Marine Commander Yohan Marius, two Hayestolian Suns with a black border across his rank slide signifying his position. This man was a former soldier, one of a cadre of senior officers trained to lead men in the amphibious theatre. Many aimed to be like him, but not all could, with 3,000 men directly in his charge. The landings were the duty of the Navy to complete with his guidance - they had the powers of command at this time - until such a time that the entire Command Section was in position on shore. Holding his helmet in his hands and checking his Chameleon body armour for any final issues, the Marine Commander waited for this crucial turnover.

The first elements to leave the safety of the ships were the Javelin IFVs, a first wave of twenty carrying 200 Marines proceeding rapidly to the long shoreline that would be the leaping point for the entire NH Operation. The second wave would be not more than two kilometres behind, and they would approach in horizontal waves.

As the Javelins came within a few kilometres of the beach, plumes of water caused by explosions burst ahead of them, set off by NH Navy vessels creating visual concelment for any enemy forces not scared off by the show of force by the navy's aircraft. As this happened, plumes of white smoke released from the Javelins in near synchronicity. This IR concealment device would serve to deflect guided missiles, one of many countermeasures serving the New Hayesalian Marines.

Their approach continued, with no resistance yet. As the vehicles touched the sands, their tracks kicked into gear, guiding them. Furthermore, canister smoke screens deployed, creating a brown-black plume mixing with the white, concealing the landing of the first twenty combat vehicles, an additional twenty following but a minute behind. With great speed, the vehicles advanced up the beach, taking a covered position at the end of the beach and scanning with their 30mm autocannons and machine guns.

With minor exceptions, as the rear ramp open two sections would leave the vehicles, taking well-rehearsed positions with the rifle team tacking right and the weapons team going left. Ten men or women in each IFV, now combat ready and itching for a fight, though some a bit seasick.

Still no resistance.

The first wave advanced along their marines, providing a security buffer. As they did, the second wave unloaded and came along the flanks, searching for targets. Overhead, flown by the New Hayesalian Army, two-ship formations of Apache attack helicopters patrolled, clearing the area for the arrival of a wave of eight Chinook helicopters, each with two full squads of marines totalling 50 apiece, delivering 400 Marines to the beach in one fell swoop. They would then advance, taking patrol and recon routes ahead of the main formation and essentially bounding ahead, taking key positions to maintain watch as their comrades landed en masse.

The sand and dust was kicked up rapidly, with eight Navy Chinooks landing at nearly identical times and distances from each other, their loaded Marines running with speed to their rally points.

As it stood, 800 marines and forty assault vehicles had landed and now controlled a huge chunk of the Al-Khalifiyan coast north of the sector three river. The units, working in companies of 100 marines apiece, would gradually take up position in forward operating bases and checkpoints established by the stretched Vannish forces.

The landing would take some hours to complete, with a coalition commander expected to visit and meet with Marine Commander Marius.

As the massive Marine landing moved along it's various stages, there were eyes watching from high above. Two helicopters flew overhead, circling the landing in orbit. Their lights were all off, typical for combat missions. So there were no red strobes or white lights. One helicopter was sleek, aerodynamic and stealthy. It was an aircraft that hadn't been seen in this desert until a few months ago.

It was a RAH-66 Comanche scout helicopter. Tonight it was escorting a Blackhawk carrying a VIP. Vangaziland relied on the Comanche and the UH-1Z as their attack helicopters. The nation has not invested in the Apache Longbow, surprisingly.

As the clock struck :48 past the hour, the pilot of the Blackhawk set his aircraft on a wide banking turn back towards the beach. The Comanche followed it, some distance behind.

They were headed to a predetermined location. By this time, the Hayesalian Marines should have cordoned off the designated LZ as established in the OP-ORDER. Everything seemed to be going to plan.

Brigadier General Wan Liu pressed down on a button attached to an electronic box wired to his helmet. It keyed up the radio. "Hayesalia Actual, this is Hotel Six Actual. Meeting is a go, ETA 15 minutes."

The person most likely to reply would by an RTO, carrying the radio for an officer. The call went from the Vannish general, riding in the Blackhawk, to the New Hayesalian Commander.

The two helicopters sped through the air, lowering their altitude. The Comanche was not going to land. It was not long until the Blackhawk closed in on the LZ, making contact with a man holding two glowing pylons to help land the helicopter.

The helicopter came to a slow hover, before losing altitude and touching down on the ground. Immediately, General Liu hopped out. Several others stepped out from the helicopter and surrounded the group.

The team gathered everything they had and began to march away from the loud helicopter that sat in the grass field with it's rotors blazing. They were heading to a predetermined meeting location. It was just far enough away to get away from the loud helicopter. With it's passenger's disembarked, the Blackhawk took off back to the skies, slowly lifting from it's perch and climbing back into the sky. The Comanche circled the scene.

Eventually, the group found a tent after a brisk walk through the Marine lines. They stepped in and were met with the ranking New Hayesalians who had been waiting on them. Everyone shook hands and went over greetings and introductions.

"Marine Commander Marius, Let me get right to the point", said the one star general. "We're basing your entire detachment out of Airbase Hofstedder for now. It's fairly close to this landing point. On the map, in sector Hotel, it's a few dozen miles north of the jagged 'M like' part of the coastline, between two creeks. Our Comanche has plotted the grid and the route on our FBCB2 digital system. I know your vehicles have a compatible system. All your vehicles and any tacpads your soldiers have on the system will be routed with directions once we send the information to your systems."

The general took a quick sip from a canteen on his belt, old school style.

"Later this week, some of your forces will move north to a smaller fob, in the more arid desert. So you can decide what forces you want to base up there. Vangaziland is going to be working with you every step of the way in both places."

He paused and took another sip.

"What are your concerns about the sector? Any questions about my forces?"

Pilot Lt Yerma and her RIO Janus checked systems. The bay doors opened and the grind of gears worked as the landing gear came down. The aircraft slowed to 25mp moving forward as the fans began to spin faster to keep it from belly landing hard. Its lights were off and a large permiter had been established around its landing pad. The landing pad was a make shift construction of wooden planks and dirt, creating a buffer. It was an unplanned landing but the EVA had alerted the aircrew to a malfunction in one of its sensors

Yerma gently pulled back on the stick feathering the fans to slow the aircraft and finally lightly bounce back as the wheels mad contact, contracted and expanded on the landing gear.

Immediately the mechanics from the waiting SH70 rushed to the aircraft and started opening the left side tail boom, the area where the sensor was going off. It was a missile intercept sensor.

Yerma and Janus climbed out for a quick leg stretch. Rather slender and small framed, Yerma strode with confidence and command authority to the mechanics busy working on the aircraft.

"Whats wrong with it? And How long am I gonna be on the ground." She said.The Mechanic LT replied "Im not sure. Its strange for this tech to not work right. But im gonna make sure that when it goes off, its not lying to you. Can't afford to have this malfunction lead to casualties and air frame losses." He said as a box was pulled out. The box had an array of panels, one of which was hanging on a wire in front of the others. "This is the cause. Its giving back signals to itself. Complete lack of oversight that this was installed. Should have been noted it was damaged and not installed at all." He said as he called a mechanic with a case over.They pulled out a thermal paste and applied it to the loose panel. They then gently replaced it into the void from which it was to be, creating a solid array.

"This should correct the issue. It should no longer be in a tracking loop. If it is I suggest RTB to the Desh for repairs and sortie from her. Just a suggestion." The Mechanic said as his crew went about reinstalling the component and reattaching the stealth coated shroud with care.

As more Marines came into landing on Caracal helicopters and landing hovercraft, offloading their rucks onto Milrem THeMIS mini unmanned ground vehicles, a robot associate to a light infantry unit that would carry their heavy rucks, allowing them to march in patrol order. In all, any section that did not have organic transport was issued a THeMIS, it's 750kg payload more than enough to carry the packs of five soldiers and consumables. They'd follow the troops, some now marching in order to get established at Airbase Hofstedder, providing infrastructure for the New Hayesalian Navy's aircraft; and Port Khalifiya, where the Navy had deployed the frigate NHS Vorach.

In the hastily assembled command post, really not much more than a Barracuda-type camouflage net - of course, one of the most advanced in the market - the Commander's signalman picked up the Vannish arrival. Directed to a landing site by appropriately purple smoke, the Vannish UH-60 came in escorted and made a professional landing on this contested beach, further escorted by a Navy aviation sailor in his grey uniform. NH Marines in their sandy transitional uniforms jogged past as the Vannish brigadier approached behind, a Marine military policeman rushing over to take the man to Marius' command post.

The New Hayesalian officer welcomed in his superior - the rank of Marine Commander only being that equivalent to a Lieutenant Colonel - and showed him on the 9LANDs battle management system the current disposition of his troops and the plans. Many, at the moment, were taking up positions in defence of the landing site. The Commander provided additionally notes as to where his troops would be headed, with the remainder of forces being sent to create positions and take over stretched Vannish road blocks.

"Our Marines are already tapped into your intelligence. I'll be moving to Port Khalifiya once we have these things underway, as you know, as we can tap into infrastructure there to better enable logistics and administration. I've already seen where you need us, and we can move the motorised infantry out there. We can basically cover everything with people in it north of Sector B with, I'd say, 200 Marines and light vehicles. We anticipate our tank unit will be contacted for any big operations, considering the amount of power even a section can bear down, so consider them at your request sir."

The two shook hands, as the Marine Commander appeared to have a fair knowledge of the Vannish operations and with technicians in New Hayesalia monitoring blue force tracking, the New Hayesalians had a near-live feed of allied forces.

"You look a little tired sir, take this." the New Hayesalian said, opening a small pouch and pulling a ration pack classic from New Hayesalia - a low GI glukos gel, vanilla flavoured as was the Commander's favourite - and passing it to the Brigadier. "So what sort of threats have we been seeing, mainly, in these areas of operations?"

FOB Nightingale had been fairly calm for the day, Crimson Platoon was currently on standby and thus Howard was on pseudo guard duty just trying to kill some time and be useful. However some movement caught his eye in a nearby building, instinctively raising his rifle he looked closely and saw a boy of about ten or so looking at him intently from the blown out window of an apartment just across the wide highway. Seconds seemed to be hours as Howard stood there wondering if this boy was going to pull out a rifle or a rocket launcher, slowly as if he was a turtle the boy brought his hands into the air and left them there as he mouthed words to Howard, Howard knew very little of the local language but it looked like he said "Hello". Howard lowered his weapon and waved to the boy who enthusiastically waved his arm back with so much force it moved his entire body.

The hospitaller stood there as the boy held up his hands, he was telling him to wait, Howard grew very nervous as the boy vanished from the window and popped back up suddenly, Howard immediately pushed himself to the ground and slowly got back up once no sound was heard. His eyes were greeted to the image of his new friend profusely apologizing, Howard shook his head and waved back "My bad" his actions would say in this pantomime that was only known by these two. The boy lifted a puppy into the air and held him tightly, "This is my puppy!" Howard smiled and nodded his head in exaggerated form, "Yes, he is cute." That nod brought a large smile to the boy's face and warmth to Howard's heart, the boy looked back behind him quickly though and gave a point towards the door of the room he was in, best as Howard could tell he was saying he had to go. Howard waved good bye and the boy waved back, thus the Knight was once more alone up on that wall.

Howard headed to the mess hall to grab some chow and ended up seeing a familiar face, "Hey, ladykiller," a thin arm wrapped around his upper torso, "Okay, it was annoying when the guys did it, but it is ironic when you say it." A young woman with only her face visible due to her desert pattern helmet had latched on to Howard, she shrugged, "Not my fault we got stuck in the same command, blame the set up." They both stood there in awkward silence, the reason why though was more complex than it seemed. Early on in his career when the hospitaller was young, brave, and vastly stupid he had become wed to a young lass who was employed as a mage designated for medical; his nickname actually came from being divorced, which for his still young age was a rarity in Avalon.

"I heard about what happened yesterday that put you on standby, are you-" Howard took hold of her hand and uncoiled the woman's arm from around his chest, "Cassidy, I am fine. I paid them back bullet for bullet and in the end their asses are getting gnawed on by filthy mutts just like the garbage they are." His eyes were filled with hurt and pain as those images still ran on repeat through his mind. "Oh really? Cause last I heard they found you practically ripping a guy's heart out like it was a damn movie!" She pulled his head down to her level as she was a full head shorter than him, "Please, get help?" Howard looked away from her as she stared him down with that icy grey gaze. The reason the two had gotten divorced was not actually out of lost love, it was actually the opposite, they both cared far too much and death was a common thing in this world of fire they both inhabited. They divorced cause their thoughts were that it would be easier that way, they were wrong though, under those protective gloves they still wore their rings and each week they mailed each other letters.

"Fine, care to release me?" Cassidy blushed as she let go of his collar, "Thanks, you are far to short to do that, it hurts my neck when you do." Her eyes narrowed, "I outrank you." Howard shrugged, "You are not my unit leader though, only person I gotta listen to outside my unit is an officer. So suck it, sweetheart." He rapped his knuckle on the top of her helmet as he walked off producing a loud hollow noise, "Glad to see your body armor fits, guess they found one tight enough to not slide off you?" Cassidy followed him out of the mess tent, "You are a big dick, you know that?" He was walking backwards and occasionally looking behind him. "All the girls tell me I got one, that line is new though."

"Where is the shrink at anyway?" The swordsman of small stature shrugged, "No clue, I mean Rose probably would know, but Swordsman Sixth Degree Cassidy has no fuckin' clue. So feel free to fall in a hole and die." She huffed and walked off toward the education center. "Oh come on! You waste my time telling me to go see fuckin Bigfoot?" Howard sighed, his brain told him he did need the help however his heart was telling him how much it would wound his pride to get it, the entire team relied on the hospitaller and if he started going crazy then they'd lose faith in him. After about a half hour of searching and asking around he found his way into a white walled room where a comfortable couch lay just opposite of a chair occupied by a woman wearing a white lab coat over her standard desert fatigues and boots. "So you do exist. A sign would be pretty nice." Howard took his seat as the woman smiled and wrote something down. "We haven't even started talking, what could you possibly have noted?"

"Your demeanor." He rested back against the couch, he left his rifle in the barracks but still had his sidearm on him so his hand was casually rested in his lap a couple inches from the pistol on his hip. "Oh really? Care to explain?" The doctor turned her notepad around so he could see it, "You walk with light steps and strong movements, your are currently sitting in a relaxed position yet still have your hand prepared to draw your pistol. You are on edge, if I had to guess I'd say you are on edge." Howard laughed, "Well, doc, you just hit the nail on the head with a sledgehammer." The knight leaned forward on the couch so his elbows rested on his knees, "A friend recommended I come see you. It is about the Crimson Platoon hit yesterday." The doctor took a quick note, "You are part of that unit? I am sorry for your loss." Howard said a small quiet thanks as he looked to the floor of the room, "I know those guys are in a better place, but what sticks with me is what I became. Can I start from the beginning?"

"Of course"

"We were out trying to rebuild some local shops, just five of us, and we saw a pretty big collection of men gathering around something - I figured it was a damn rooster fight the way they carried on. Greg was up on the roof fixing it and he got visual of what it was," Howard stopped and looked to his hands as if they were still covered in blood, "those bastards had children, little girls and boys, and were doing things to them that I do not want you to know. We were out numbered, what were five guys supposed to do? We fired upon them, the element of surprise did not count for much though. I do not know the specifics of it cause towards the end I blacked out, lost total control," the knight's body shook as he remembered that dark and cold place he went to, "they were beyond my saving, they deserved better. I held them in my arms and comforted them with my words as they left this world. Then it all goes black and last thing I remember is the emergency unit coming to find us. According to them Greg was heavily injured and treating himself, Arnold was dead on arrival, and I," he trailed off, "was mutilating a corpse." That added up, the file the doctor had received on the event listed that Swordsman Seventh Degree Howard had used his issued knife to saw one man's head off, gouge another's eyes out, and was attempted to tear a third's heart out - the third man was still alive.

The doctor could see what distressed him was the very last part of that and the horrors that brought him there, "How do you feel?" Howard lightly pushed his shoulders up, "Honestly? Scared. My team kept a lid on it, they saw the exact same things I did, and yet they had the cool to keep Greg alive and attempt saving Arnold, meanwhile I lost it." The doctor noted his response, "Anything you feel that could have brought you to that response?" Howard nodded his head, "No, I just felt a Hellish rage inside my heart when I saw they were beating and doing such horrid acts to children. Men are supposed to protect children and love them, we are supposed to guard them from harm. Not do cruel acts like that to them. Back before all this I worked at a daycare, it was decent pay. Those kids reminded me of my young'ins, and it just set me off I guess." The doctor once more wrote on her pad, she actually had not been worried at all despite having read the report, it was obvious he was no harm to anyone else. The real worry for her was whether he was a danger to himself. "If anyone asks, I did not tell you this, but if you head to that squat little building in the northwest of the base, should be marked Special Purpose Management, you will find some fellas who can relate to you. If you need anyone to talk to I am here, but I really think you should talk with them too as I do not know what it is like to be a soldier." Howard and the doctor stood up and they shook hands, "Thanks, doc." He read the nametape on her lab coat, "Freind?" She nodded her head, "Friends call me Freud as a joke though." She and Howard walked out of the office and into the hall. "So who are these guys I am supposed to see?" Doctor Freind shrugged, "How would I know? I am glad you are gonna talk about it with others though." She winked as he walked off and out of the hospital.

The swordsman was utterly confused, it was mid-afternoon now, he had been in that office longer than he wanted to be since now most the day was gone. The building was easy enough to find, it was a nasty shack that in the feigning light of day looked sinister. There seemed to be a soldier's memorial out in front of it though as a rifle stuck up with a round object that looked like a helmet sitting atop it, closer inspection of it revealed it was a crude pointed stick with a goat's severed head driven down upon it. Howard recoiled in horror as he edged away from it and up to the door, the stench of the decaying animal clung in the air and practically was punching him in the nose. His eyes were glued to the effigy as he knocked lightly, though turning around to face the door he wished he had ran the other way, there was an upside down star within a circle painted on the door, the smell of the goat's head harmonized with the metallic nose curling aroma of the blood on the door. "Oh my God," Howard had no clue who these people were or why they were on the base, but all he did know is that he wanted nothing to do with them. The door slid open and inside was a well cared for barracks with several men sleeping or reading manuals. "You knocked?" The fella in the doorway looked like he could break a tree with his face, if there was a such thing as a super hero this guy was it.

"I did? Oh, sorry. I did not mean to disturb you, I was just told some fellas here might be able to help me." The seemingly ten foot tall soldier nodded his head, "Sure, come on in." That shocked Howard who was lead into the barracks. "What do you need?" The fella slid a chair up to a table tucked in the corner of the barracks, the other soldiers all continued what they were doing. "Doctor Freind said I should come by and talk to a couple fellas in here, she said I would be best talking to some guys who knew the situation personally." The tall fellow nodded his head and asked Howard what the situation was, he told him and meanwhile every action in the room halted, he had the attention of everyone in there, once it had ended Howard noticed their once indifferent faces now held traces of understanding. The tall guy nodded his head, "I think we all have moments like that. Your buddies were hit, those kids were in danger, you became a hyper lethal vector. Don't beat yourself up over it. That monster you fear inside? Cage it. Make it work for you not the other way around. It is a beast of anger and rage, but don't be afraid of it. Make it fear you. One thing we learn in training is controlled rage, it is an emotion that turns a weak man into a strong one and a dumb man into a cunning one." The tall man smiled and extended his hand to Howard, "Names Walters, buddies call me Camouflage." Howard shook the man's hand, "Howard, but my friends like pissing me off by calling me Ladykiller." Camouflage nodded his head, "Well, I'd hate to piss you off so I'll call you Black Widower, any better?" Howard genuinely laughed, "Sure, that'll do."

Strangest part of it was meeting the other guys, they all looked like perfect action movie stars, yet they were so friendly and warm hearted to a total stranger. An obvious question was in Howard's mind however as they all had a patch on their uniforms that was a three pronged trident within a laurel wreath, "I've never seen that unit insignia before, what does it mean?" Camouflage shrugged, "It's Satan's Pitchfork." Howard's face contorted into confusion, "Satan's Pitchfork? Wait," he had heard it once before back in basic, guys who tried to go AWOL and jump the fence didn't come back from the other side for a week, and after they did they were far different than before, "back in basic we had a guy jump the fence, week later he came back a wreck. According to him those guys wore something he called Satan's Pitchfork - samething?" Camouflage shrugged, "Not at liberty to answer for certain, but if you wouldn't mind go up to command and ask them to transfer you to DEMON 13, your platoon is down for the time being, yes? Well, we just so happen to have need of a guy that knows this area greatly." A fella about Howard's height but built like a tonka truck handed him a signed request form, "We head out at first light, I will call up ahead and get things done from my end."

Receiving the form Howard nodded his head, "Yes, sir. Right away." He quickly signed the transfer document himself and ran off out of the barracks. The soldiers all returned to their tasks, "You do know it is only my place to order transfers, right?" Camouflage picked a book up off the table, "Yeah, but I figured you also saw the potential there. The kid's got promise, and we need someone who knows the area." The officer agreed, "You made a pretty good call then, in the meantime, who wants to play a round of poker? Losers do push ups until they puke." The DEMONs all agreed, they had all gotten pretty good at counting cards.

The events were set in motion, until Crimson Platoon was prepared to come off standby Swordsman Seventh Degree Howard would be attached to DEMON 13, though he still had no clue what that meant pondering it as he drifted off to sleep in his bunk.

The Hayesalian 9LANDs were linked into the Vannish FBCB2 combat tracking system. This way the two forces could share real time intelligence on digital maps. Friendly positions as well as suspected and confirmed enemy positions could be plotted on the digital map, which would upload onto screens inside coalition vehicles as red or blue icons.

Vannish soldiers utilized a digital TACPAD that allowed soldiers access to the digital map, even outside of a vehicle. The general's RTO carried such a pad. He was a rather young looking Vangazi currently on one knee outside the tent, wearing a radio and monitoring a few networks over an earpiece, HK416 in arms.

The General listened to the Hayesalian as he mentioned the tank unit that was deploying to the Northwest. He smirked and nodded, "Our light infantry is up there. They'll appreciate the armor, for sure. Your tanks will be one hell of a force multiplier. That sector is a highway ride north of the big city district. Our T-90s are just east of the urban sprawl. So they'll be operating just south of Hayesalian Armor."

General Liu thought about the Vannish Army units in FOB Kali, where the foreign tanks would be headed. A Vannish light infantry Brigade Combat Team was assigned one cavalry battalion. Those would be the forces that would work the most with Hayesalian armor.

"I know the Cav is going to be happy."

The general took the food packet and examined it curiously. "I'll have to try this soon." He was feeling pretty tired after all. There was not a lot of time for him to sleep. He had been extra busy in the past two weeks. He was responsible for coordinating all of this international support. It was such important business that he tried to handle everything himself. He did have a team of colonels, majors and captains who were also running all over the city state.

General Liu repeated the question. "Threats? Well here in sector Hotel, we get mortared pretty regularly. The Wind mounts 60mm tubes to the back of old pickup trucks. They shoot and flee before our aircraft can intercept. They're good at blending back in with the local populace. Especially at night. There are also lots of snipers in this sector and throughout the nation. Some are top shots, some couldn't hit a barn. But they shoot at us. They like to ambush us along the highways that run to the northwest. They harass shipping. it's pretty easy for them to shoot at the passing convoys. RPGs come into effect as well. There haven't been many bombings in this sector. We think an airstrike hit the big bomb maker that used to live here. It's only a matter of time until they rotate a new one into this sector. What with all the transit..."

Liu lifted the food packet as his stomach growled. He flicked it a few times with his index finger.

A blue icon moved quickly across the screen of the RTO's TACPAD and the Hayesalian 9LANDs. Moments later the sound of an engine could be heard roaring in the distance overhead. It sounded heavy, almost like a commercial airliner. An examination of the icon would show it was a flight of two A-10s. The Vannish Air Force was monitoring the Hayesalian landing.

They were passed down as assets to maneuver level units. Some Hayesalian JTACs or possibly even forward observers had the ability to control foreign aircraft. Any FO would jump at the chance. They were tasked to a battalion HQ or Fire Support Element. Battalion could then pass CAS to the radio network of any FO or maneuver commander who requested support.

The sound of the two helicopters rotated back over the landscape as the RAH-66 and the Blackhawk circled the area. The Scout helicopter's main mission was to keep an eye on the tent and immediate area around the tent in direct support of the Vannish general. The RTO crouching outside the tent could contact the helicopter. Vannish RTOs were infantrymen, but were well trained in the art of the call for fire and air support requests.

"Do you have any concerns or needs in this sector? Let me know. Our logistical machine is at your beckon call."

Last edited by Vangaziland on Sun Sep 18, 2016 3:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.

The air was the coolest it had been in the city state compared to the last few months. Soldiers who have been in country over the entire summer would almost feel like the air was cool. It was still 103 degrees, but that was much cooler than 120. Of course to soldiers just arriving as part of the surge, the heat would be something they would have to contend with. At night the temperature drops into the 70's and 80's. An outsider would be surprised, but that actually feels quite cold once one acclimates to desert temperatures.

The Vannish soldiers would bundle up as the nights became colder, as if they were back at home, utilizing balaclavas, neck gaiters, gloves and even polypro liners.

But here in the middle of the day, night seemed so far away. Things were real busy for the military at this point in the day. Convoys were ferrying goods and ammo. Sectors were being patrolled. Even the skies were full of activity.

One unit on patrol was 9th Battalion, 42nd Infantry Brigade of the New Khalifiyan Army. The unit once fought the Vangazi during the early days of the war. It was 3 weeks before their Colonel, or Sarhang in their native language, was hit in a helicopter gunship's airstrike. The new Colonel signed over to the new government and surrendered all hostilities against the Vannish Empire and the coalition. It was a choice that many Khalifiyan officers had to make.

Surely they found it hard to support what the Red Wind did in Vangaziland. Bombing civilians on such a scale was something the average Khalifiyan could not support. And Omar Khaleef, the new Chancellor, was quite charismatic. He was convincing. Besides, the coalition did not want to change anything with their government or way of life. The humanitarian effort, along with the efforts of Vannish engineers that had been renovating the infrastructure, was really increasing the Khalifiyan standards of life.

Especially in the remote sector of the Fire Valley. This is where the 9-42 of the New Khalifiyan Army was currently patrolling. They moved along a hilly path in two staggered columns. This was 2nd Platoon, A Company.

It had been a routine patrol. One more long walk in the hills. This was an everyday thing for light infantry in this sector and across the nation.

The men moved in silence under the midday sun. Their eyes scanned the terrain around them, looking for movement on any of the nearby hills. They kept their heads on a swivel. The last two soldiers would occasionally turn around and look back.

Then, at 14:41 their silence was shattered. There was a large plume of smoke and dirt was thrown up in the air about 50-75 meters away. A few seconds after they saw the explosion, they heard and felt it with a concussive pop. The sandy dirt hung in the air and drifted towards them.

"Incoming! Egress North, 300 meters", yelled their E-6, Goruhbān Dovom (Staff Sergeant) in Arabic. Immediately the team took off running to the North. It was a mortar strike. When mortars are trying to hit a target, they try to use a distance bracket to walk the rounds onto the target. You have to try to move out of the danger area.

After they ran about 40 meters, the sound of one Ak-47 and then another reverberated.

"It's coming from behind that ****ing wall!" An eager private saw one of the muzzle flashes behind a 5 foot tall tan concrete wall about 200 meters to their east, just along a hillside.

"Damn it, first squad cover and bound on our sign." yelled the sergeant. The next mortar round landed directly behind them, but 100 meters behind them. It meant the observers were on line. They just had to refine the distance. The next round of staccato AK-47 bursts rocketed off towards the New Peoples' Soldiers.

The brave soldiers stopped their run from the mortars, knowing the next round could land right on their position. About 7 AK-47s and one RPK began to return fire. The noise was deafening. They saw one of the gunmen pop up and aim from behind the concrete wall. Right away the machine gunner shifted the RPK behind the bipod he had dug into the soft ground and squeezed the trigger.

The enemy ducked just as the rounds would have hit him. Some of the rounds impacted on the wall where the man had been, popping the concrete into a misty smoke.

That seemed to be the end of the gunfire. Maybe he was hit? Maybe he just lost his wits.

The next squad began to fire up the path. It was the sign for the squad that had turned and fired to get up and go. They didn't hesitate. Just as they got up, the next round landed way in front of them, where the lead element was bounding.

The other squad didn't have eyes on the enemy, but were peppering the wall and the air above it. The enemy was suppressed now. They were actually crawling along the wall to the South away from contact. It was too dangerous to keep shooting in broad daylight. Once they got about 50 meters away, they got up and ran along the 5 foot wall. The Peoples' soldiers kept firing at the wall, the next squad had fixed and began firing and another unit picked up and bounded.

It didn't seem like the last mortar hit anyone. But the firing had stopped. The mortarmen knew the Vangazi had special tracking computers that could trace back a mortar's launch and find it's firing point. This was pretty far in the middle of nowhere, out in the Fire Valley. But they could not be sure. The Vangazi had AWACS and EW planes that could detect such a launch, hone in on it and show up.

Vannish ROEs would easily clear an airstrike on a mortar team. There was no place to hide at this time of day. The mortarmen had also moved on, probably driving off in a pickup truck with a 60mm tube in the back.

It looked like the broad day strike on the Khalifiyan patrol had come to an end. The Khalifiyans didn't know this and were still shooting at the lonely concrete wall that ran alongside the steep, rolling hillside. They kept moving forward until it became clear the attack had stopped. They laid down prone on the sandy road. Many of them were breathing hard, catching their breath.

An RTO was calling the incident up on the radio in Arabic. An SU-25 Frogfoot was being pushed to their sector. A second radioman, the forward observer, was scribbling notes in a little notebook, working up a grid on the wall to push to the aircraft. Whenever an aircraft was arriving on sight was a busy time for an FO. But this was becoming an everyday thing. The Red Wind would pay the locals to do something like this.

The two people who fired on the patrol were probably poor villagers the mortarmen paid to pop shots at the patrol and distract them.

Eventually, things calmed down and the patrol got up and started walking down the dusty, hilly road... Once again.

Thirty minutes after midnight Howard was fetched from his bunk on the third floor of the barracks by one of the DEMONs, since it was common for calls to happen a night he had slept in full battle gear with his bag and supplies sitting next to the bed.

"Widower, heads up." Howard opened his eyes, "I swear if some idiot stepped on an IED walking his damn goat I am not sewing his leg back on." The hospitaller got to his feet and began sliding his backpack on simply out of muscle memory. "We are moving out, come on." A lean man of early twenty in age stood head level with Howard, he had a good amount of gear on though, this guy had a waist belt that secured a hammer upon it that was designed to have a solid cube like head while the reverse looked similar to an pry bar this belt also held a wrench and a screwdriver. Howard could not get a good look at him in the dark, but he also seemed to have a small blowtorch also.

They rushed out of the barracks and towards the helipad where a helicopter waited for them, it was the same standard medical helicopter they used for medical evacuations. "You guys are running a medical operation?" Howard tossed his stuff into the twin rotored helicopter and sat down in the cargo netting of the hold. "No, this is a facade. Should we get shot down the story is that we are a special search and rescue team dispatched to come get you after you were captured on a midnight operation. Howard's head was still fogged from sleep, but that statement sobered him up quickly, "Wait, where the Hell are we going that you all have to have a cover story like that?" A dark skinned man chewing on a piece of beef jerky pulled a map form his plate carrier, "You see these caves? We are hunting a real son of a bitch. Allied forces been tracking him for some time, if we fail tonight then all their hard work was for nothing. We got this area, but since Avalon is here for humanitarian aid missions we are not technically supposed to be here."

The helicopter landed in the dusty and now frigid desert as the men unloaded their equipment. Two small five seat buggies rolled out the back, four normal seats with an unarmored machine gun mounted on a light but tough frame of metal towards the center. "Alright, Widower, you need to know these in case we get separated. Tall black guy, Guide. Lanky white fella with all the tools, Monkey. Fella carrying that shield, Aegis. Big fella in the ghillie suit, Camouflage. Brute's the guy with the machine gun. Demo carries the explosives, he is short enough to miss pretty easily. Serial, nothing much to say about him other than you can tell him apart by that damn knife he carries. Our resident tech genius is Gizmo, this weird ass goggles mark him well enough. Vampire is the pale guy without the night vision goggles. My sign is Crown, I will be sticking pretty close to you, so you can identify me that way." The two vehicles were Red One and Red Two, Howard was ordered to take a seat in Red One while Serial rode on the back of it.

The hospitaller was quickly wondering why he was there, he knew why he was there, but not the reason why they actually brought him on the mission and didn't leave him in the chopper; as that metal behemoth faded into the distance Howard pushed it as far from mind as he could and focused solely on the objective. "Distance to our target?" Guide used a range finder, "looks like a klick or so. they seem to be asleep. You sure we are in the right place, Crown?"

"Not really, the intelligence report was not much to go off of, but they know he has to be somewhere in these mountains, this is a bigger hunting trip than just us. Somebody has to find him." All was quiet as they eased up closer and closer to the mountain range, dusty plains turned to ridged hills as the vehicles halted to take a quick look around. "Still no assholes, Crown, the pucker factor should be off the chart right now if this place was important." Guide had stood up in the vehicle looking around, since the buggy was just a metal frame with some light armor around the engine he was easily able to stand up on the seat. "Light activity in the cave, they are asleep. Looks to be a grouping of fifty or so deep into the cave."

"Can you confirm they are hostile?" Several moments of silence passed as Guide looked the place over with great detail. "Definitely, I see a flag at the back of the cave, they are either hostile or supporting them." Crown acted on that statement, "Demo, bring the thunder." The explosives worker dismounted and crawled up the ridge, the front of the cave had a shabby wall made of rocks and manure at the front of it about knee high, Demo crawled slowly along it before pushing his backpack off and opening it very carefully. From inside he pulled a couple bundles of supplies and encased them in some sort of container, hooking electrodes up to the container he wired it to a box and began his return journey just as slow as he had ascended. Howard was confused what he had done when Demo pushed a button on his handheld device, through the nightvision goggles all Howard saw was a Hell like bloom of light that caused him to recoil and take cover, "Holy shit!" He pulled his goggles off and began rubbing his eyes, between the darkness and his still near blind vision he only saw flashes of painful red light from the mouth of the cave.

"Widower!" Gizmo had him by the shoulder, "Your sight gone?" The hospitaller was lucid as his vision swam, "Not fully, what's going on?" Gizmo shrugged, "Damn cave didn't fall in on them. Gamble was to cave in the entrance and see if they funneled out another way like ants." Automatic fire was muffled by Howard's electronic headset as his vision finally returned. "Someone could have told me that." Howard and Gizmo were the only ones in Red One. "Alright, you back? Man the turret. I am going to launch some eyes and get us air support." Howard climbed up into the turret where he stood on a metal bar firing the heavy machine gun towards the entrenched insurgents who were now tired and pissed off that their home got blown to Hell. Over the medic's head a quadrotor drone buzzed up into the sky as it flew over what used to be a cave roof, Gizmo called out enemy positions and began firing upon them with the pistol caliber machine gun his drone contained, the two hundred rounds it held were gone fast however and it was brought back to rearm before launching once more.

Howard had never fired a turret, the feel of this monster spitting fire into the darkness was exhilarating, however he began to feel an ache in his arms several minutes in, the recoil of the weapon along with the jarring of it hurt like Hell, pain was pushed aside in favor of duty though. The battle had quickly turned in their favor right from the start, that homemade bomb Demo planted was close enough to the sleeping militants nearest the cave entrance the pressure wave had took them out of the fight, only reason the DEMONs did was that they were at the base of the ridge else they'd have been out of commission also. Their objective was not to simply win a battle though, any unit could have done that, the goal was capture of the enemy force's leader.

The hospitaller climbed down out of the turret and into the driver's seat of the vehicle. "Gizmo, provide me cover." The team was still fighting to gain entrance to the cave, there was no good cover in the cave and thus they had to be sure the enemy was taken out before going in. "Can do." The technical operator had no clue what Howard planned, but he provided air cover for him. The plan was to move the vehicle up in front of the cave's entrance and provide some cover for them to fire from behind.

"I'm moving up." Pressing the gas pedal down Howard began directing the vehicle from the side of the area just outside the cave to middle where it was wide open. It seemed a brave militant felt he could take them in close quarters as he ran towards the cave entrance, though adrenaline quickly pumped through Howard's veins like bolts of lightning as the phrase suicide bomber was shouted from ahead of him. Life seemed to pause as he took in every detail, two ideas ran through his head, fight or flight. Knowing death was knocking for him either way Howard slammed on the gas and bulldozed the bomber thereby pinning him to the wall as a painting of red erupted from him due to the high forces. The only thing that saved Howard's life was that the deadman's switch had been wired up incorrectly.

"Widower!" Camouflage jerked Howard from the vehicle and dragged him by the handle on the back of his plate carrier. The knight smiled happily, "Damn, God has some ugly ass angels. I sure hope I ain't dead or else I really got screwed." He sat up and gave himself a once over, sure enough he was still alive, trouble did not end there though. Aegis had pushed forward, however a hostile managed to sneak a shot around his shield and catch him under the left arm directly in the armpit, he fell like a sack of potatoes into the sand. "Knight down!" Serial was beside him but too busy suppressing the enemy with fire to help him medically.

"Hospitaller up!" Howard pushed off against Camouflage and began quickly crawling through the network of fire towards Aegis. The medical knight grabbed the man's shield and leaned it against his back as he knelt over the wounded man. Removing his chest gear by the quick release buckles the wound became obvious, it had entered his armpit and left right through his left shoulder blade, he was incredibly lucky it missed his spine. "Alright, Aegis, stay with me, man. The lucky bastard got you in the one place we can't armor, but I can fix this. Bite down on this." Howard pulled a clean sock from a pouch on his backpack and rolled it up tight before having Aegis bite down on the rope like linen. It had been a clean pass, which was both good and bad, the bad part being he had no way of treating the internal damage, good part being that there was no risk of the bullet still being in the wound and causing infection. With haste Howard cleaned the injury and poured a couple packets of clotting agent into the wound before he plucked two pink packages from his bag and opened them to reveal a pair of ear plug looking white cylinders which he pushed down into the wound's entrance and exit. Finally Howard grabbed the shield with his left arm and drew his pistol with his left hand, using his right hand the lad began pulling Aegis from the danger zone as he fired his sidearm into the cave without aim in an attempt to suppress the opposition long enough to get his buddy out of the fight.

"Thanks," Aegis was hurting bad enough he couldn't move at that time, but that single word said it all between the two knights. "Don't thank me, this is my job. Don't let them see you bleed." Howard kept the shield on his left arm and snatched up the rifle dangling off his chest by a single point sling. It was dead weight really, but there was enough adrenaline in his veins that the hospitaller did not notice as something had just clicked. No longer was this about him, that same anger he felt still pounded in his chest, but just as Camouflage had told him to he was making it his bitch this time. A devilish smile curled across his face as he came slowly back up to that cave entrance, Howard was the wildcard, all other members of the unit knew each other inside and out while he did not have that link, that telepathy almost.

"I'm moving up, cover me!" His back was placed against the left wall of the cave as the shield protected his left side, hooking the rifle so its foregrip stabilized it on the shield he began firing while holding the magazine with his left grip. Rounds impacted the shield and rocked him as he continued to press forward, the translucent material of the window quickly became a spiderweb of spirals as bullets impacted it.

The team began moving up, with him drawing fire suicidally the enemy became sitting targets, they took cover behind rocks in the cave as they pressed forward. The wildcard's lucky hand quickly ended though when a round glanced off his shield and impacted his right femur. Adrenaline practically drained the pain away, though his next step brought him towards the ground where he tried to brace himself and ended up lying in a broken heap, his rifle beside him as that shield laid over top him. As his blood spilled out onto the sand Howard laid there listening to the sounds of the battle. His team mates calling man down as rounds still struck that damn heavy shield laying on him like a brick. His body was screaming to stop, to lay down and die in that pool of blood, his heart and mind however refused to give in; he had no reason being here, he was not a special operator or anything better than a simple medic, but he made an oath to protect every person in need and right now his team needed him.

The round that impacted his leg had pretty much disintegrated his right femur bone, Howard's body knew that but his heart and mind refused to accept it. Pushing his rifle into the sand he lifted his body up and pushed his weight down on the barrel as it aided him in the way a crutch would. Once standing he shoulder that crutch of his and began emptying that magazine until the repeated clank of the bulletless rifle was all he heard. The battle had finally ended. He leaned against the wall with his fists in the air, "Whoo! Now which one of these bastards is the guy we were trying to kill?" His body shook with adrenaline as he noticed his view of the world was lopsided, looking to his leg curiously he saw that his right leg was much shorter than his left, his hip was practically resting on his knee now. The sight of that and the battle having ended took all the pain killing hormone from his blood stream and left him with the bare pain of the wound. "My fuckin leg is in two pieces..." His mind was still processing that as the pain hit like a freight train. The color drained from his face as Guide called for a medical evacuation, being as a major blood vessel had been struck by the wound Howard was already on the brink of bleeding out.

Sliding down the cave wall he sat there against it as tears trickled down his cheeks, his leg was barely attached as it laid in front of him and an unnatural angle. "Guys, leave me. I am a liability." Serial and Camouflage hoisted Howard up while Crown held his leg carefully. "Hell no, we either finish this together or not at all. Guide, how long we got?" The radioman pointed tot he outside of the cave, "Helo is coming back right now, he had been circling the area, any minute." Howard quickly began losing consciousness though as the night faded into darkness. He saw the desert and then nothing as he took long tired blinks. "Dude, Camo, I am pretty tired." His speech was slow and slurred as a cold feeling spread from his hands and foot up through his body as if the Grim Reaper himself was cradling him. "Widower, stay awake! Talk to me, you got a family?" Howard shook his head, "Nah, none of that." Camouflage whistled, "Lucky man, you want to have a family." The hospitaller's head bobbed as he tried to nod, his mouth refused to move now as fatigue gripped him tightly. "Then stay with me!" Howard closed his eyes, he only wanted a moment of rest, he was so tired. "Widower!" He drifted away as Camouflage's unreasonable demand fell upon deaf ears.

It was black, and not the kind that is peaceful, the scary kind where you are afraid what is out there in the unknown. His body was no longer cold though, the icy feeling instead was replaced by a burning sensation that seemed to melt him to his very being. Terror gripped his heart as the blazing hot darkness seemed to absorb him, a shocking sensation filled his body though and he closed his eyes in recoil. Opening them again he was on an operating table. "I have a heart rate!" They were operating on him, doctors were quick at work placing some form of white rod into his practically destroyed upper leg as blood was transfused into his body. Feeling safe from that dark horror and relieved to be mostly intact he fell back into a deep sleep.

A world away DEMON13 was bagging up information and computers and shoving them into trash bags before throwing them into the back of the same air vehicle that had hours before taken their team mate to safety. Dawn was breaking across the horizon as the helicopter took off into the air, ensuring they did not leave any traces of existence charges had been rigged in the cave, once a safe distance away Demo detonated them ensuring that the secret of the DEMONs was safe as all evidence perished in the cleansing fire of destruction. It was quiet as they all wondered what had happened to that crazy hospitaller who had gone above and beyond the call of duty for men he did not even know - Widower's blood had dried upon the floor of the aircraft only adding to the question of whether or not he was alive.

Various international units were getting accustomed to life in Al-Khalifiya. Some nations carved out their own base. Others shacked up on one of the Vannish bases. For those units, the first week was filled with briefings, lectures and PowerPoint presentations. Some of the stuff was a little dry, like information on local culture, an introduction to Vannish ranks or weapon systems and basic courses on Arabic.

General Wan Liu had designed the curriculum of welcome courses to the theater. There was a lot of important information that had to be passed down to the soldiers who were new to Al-Khalifiya. Vannish military personnel of different ranks and branches would give the course.

Wednesday's class was one that the soldiers would look forward to. The "briefing" was put together by soldiers from 2nd and 4th Battalion, 9th Support Brigade. This was the logistical force that was spread across the city state. 2nd and 4th coordinated with each BCT's support battalion as well as handled the logistical footprint of the theater.

There was a select unit, however that would prove quite interesting. Wednesday's class was scheduled to be given in motorpools on bases across the city state. It was to be a 1 hour demonstration on a peculiar vehicle that found itself in the Vannish arsenal.

The vehicle in question was the MECS, Mobile Entertainment and Canteen or "Finjan". Vangaziland acquired the trucks from Schwerkpunkt Arms of Nachmere. There were 7 of these vehicles in theater. They were on every Vannish base except Al-Khalifiya Airport, which was quite Spartan by Vannish standards.

The purpose behind the MECS is to boost morale. Most bases had entertainment facilities. This vehicle would go out to soldiers stationed on remote observation posts, checkpoints or extended patrols. A unit's officer had to schedule a MECS visit. The process would be given at the briefing, so all the foreign officers would know how to order MECS support.

Even if there was only time for a quick coffee break or to drop off a warm meal, that could make all the difference to a deployed unit. All the services were being provided free. The truck would feed as many as it could. It was Vannish custom to let lower ranks utilize the MECS first.

Besides food, the truck had a large satellite dish on it's roof. A projector was used to key into the system and a large screen folded down on the right side of the truck. It functioned as a big screen TV. With sports being such a big thing, they would usually be turned to one sports event or another, especially when Vannish teams were competing internationally.

Vannish cuisine was on display for the foreign soldiers. There was the Vannish meatball sub, served with onions and an optional tangy sauce. The truck also came equipped with a pizza oven. Vannish pizza was similar to New York's in that pies were large and eaten by the slice. Vannish pizza was spicier and favored the use of meat sauce over marinara. There was also a simple grilled, lemon pepper chicken filet. As a side, you can get garlic fries.

There were a few types of coffee they'd keep on hand. Some of the best beans were from New Gazi, Vangaziland's African ally. There was decaf, regular and turbo available.

A Finjan truck was crewed by 5. There was a driver, a TC who manned the mounted M240B, two cooks and an IT tech. The vehicle would never travel alone. It would be escorted by vehicles from the local Vannish bases. In some places MOWAG Piranhas may escort it. In others, the light infantry's Eagle V 4x4s would pull escort duty.

A MECS mission was considered essential to those outside the wire for extended periods of time. All the services were free, well... They were paid for by the Vannish taxpayer.

After a short class on the vehicle, the foreign soldiers would get to line up and sample the truck's wares. There would be coffee, raspberry lemonade, and spicy Vannish food. The trucks would then let the group channel surf and get used to the projector's controls, while watching Vannish satellite TV.

General Liu hoped the class would be a warm welcome for the new coalition. He knew morale was important. Keeping these soldiers happy was key to success in the city-state.

Sunday, the 18th of SeptemberOutpost Resonance, in the middle of the Fire Valley

Lance-Sharpshooter Omar Safi was quite happy. Happy to be back home on his native soil. Even though he hadn't had the chance to visit his family yet (The Safi family originally hailed from the Khalifiyan Capital), the silent note that Al-Khalifiya was at peace now, that the situation was improving. The Isle'ish, a description which Omar had been thinking about adapting for himself for some time now, were too making their contribution, whether to Khalifiyans liked it or not.

The Isle'ish weren't necessarily well-received in the Fire Valley initially. "The Oddball-Allies of the Vannish", they had been called, and he, one of the few Khalifiyan's in the Isle'ish Rows, "Traitor". It didn't help that the commander of the 1st Seperate Mountain Infantry Brigade, a certain Brig. General Graf had decided to accumulate all his Khalifiyan Soldiers into a "Khalifiyan Guide Detachment". The "Khags" as they were already commonly know among the soldiers functioned as sources of knowledge about the local area: At least one "Khag" was assigned to each major patrol, to each delegation to one of the countless villages in the Fire Valley.

There was only one distinct thing that made the Khalifiyans consider the Isle'ish worth talking. A person going by the name of "Pater Gremark". Gremark, who's actual full name was Orthodox Military Chaplain 2nd Class Walther Gremark, was the leader of the newly Isle'ish-Orthodox Mission to Al-Khalifiya. Thanks to him, within the "Outpost Resonance", there was know a community service each sunday, to which both the orthodox soldiers of the Outpost and the surrounding populace. It was a security risk, sure, but one that the Isle'ish were willing to sustain. It was the main thing that Omar appreciated about these people: They're always willing to take some risks.

Interestingly, many officers also had decided to attend the service. Most of the Isle'ish officers, who were in terms of their influence on civilian life consider "Aristocratic" by many, were agnosticans. Omar didn't understand why they were attending, But Pater Gremark, who was usually holding the service himself, was apparently thanking them for their appearence by always incorporating the "Isle'ish Military Prayer" into his final words, a prayer that even among agnostic soldiers was traditionally said when battle was near. [OOC: The following is largely adapted from A.S. Kine's translation of von Goethe's "The Tragedy of Doctor Faustus"]

The Sun, sings out, in ancient mode, A note among her brother-spheres, And ends her pre-determined road, With peals of thunders for our ears.

The sight of her gives Angels powers, Though none can understand her ways, And all the ancient works are ours, As bright as on the Primal Day.

And swift, and swift, beyond conceving, The splendour of the Earth turns round, A paradisial light is leavingWith night's awesome profound.

The ocean breaks with shining foam, Against the rocky cliffs deep base,And rock and ocean whirl and go,In the sphere's eternal race.

And storms are roaring in their race, From sea to land, and land to sea, Their raging forms a fierce embrace, All round, of deepest energy.

THY sight is what gives Angels power, Though none can understand THY ways, And all THY ancient works are ours, As bright as on the Primal Day

Omar noted that a lot of the Khalifiyan's had learned the most notable, final stanza of the prayer, and that many were silently whispering it along.

Two days later, on patrolThe Isle'ish listening post network was now fully operationable. In the far south was Fort Graf, which was under the direct command of the Expedition Commander Brigadier Graf. Stationed there was the entirety of the Isle'ish Support Troops, as well as the 12th of Foot for Security. North of it was a long line of listening posts, usually Platoon-sized, maintained by the 4th Fusiliers. These essentially secured a road to the second most important base, Outpost Resonance, in the middle of the Fire Valley. From Resonance northwards, there was a direct road connection towards the Vannish FOB April, which was secured via listening post of the International Sharpshooters.

Every time the "Khags" had to visit one of the listening post, or even sleep in one, Omar was happy that he had been detached again. Many of the Listening Posts were glorified fox-holes or biouvacs. This particular Listening Post, named "Corrigan" after the Leftenant that was commanding it, was a bunch of beds and equipment errected in a small cave in the mountain rage. In fact, "Corrigan" also had a rather special role in the security of the Fire Valley: It was located on a such prominent position on the ridge that not only Outpost Resonance, but many of the listening posts surrounding it towards the north and south could easily be seen. Naturally, the Expeditionary Command had built "Corrigan" out to be a sniper and observer haven. Corrigan's main occupant was B Company, 4th Regiment of Fusiliers, which was standing at about one-hundred men and, due to a certain lack of officers, was in command of the Leftenant Corrigan that was commanding the outpost. Also present were: A certain Leftenant Gavin, attached from Royal Intelligence; A Vannish Artillery Observation Team of four; two soldiers from the Royal Engineers; A Section worth of men from the 12th of Foot that was staying overnight on a patrol; two soldiers from the 1st Sharpshooters that had lost their patrol and were now waiting for another patrol to take them back home; one Private of the provisional Logistics Regiment; five paramedics; three military policemen; a chaplain from the Orthodox Mission; three soldiers on from the "Mounted Company", also on patrol; and then eight members of the "Khags". All in all, some 140 Soldiers.

Shortly after yesterday's emergency meeting with the National defense Council at Saifa Palace. His Royal Highness King Abdullah himself addressed the dozens of journalists from the Royal press corps present, giving a brief explanation of what was discussed. He stated that "I have decided to deploy the Royal Armed Froces of this Great Kingdom Into Al-Khalifiya. Their main objectives are to protect relief convoys,conduct armoured ground patrols,provide fire support for ground units in fire valley,and most importantly to hunt down the leadership of the Red Wind. I only regret i did not do anything much sooner. That was partly due to the past relationship between our nation and the Abbzan regime. This decision has been a diffucult one but it is the right one. A key part of our operation is to work alongside the Purple Heart agency I have instructed Muslim Aid to prepare immediately to deploy 300 doctors and engineers. Their job is to help all our brothers and sisters in Al-Khalifiya regardless of faith."

When asked why he is deciding to deploy to Al-Khalifiya when operations seem to be winding down he replied "the Vannish army alongside the Coalition that toppled Mahmoud Abbzan and his cabal have done a tremendous job, both for the region and the world. Their successes over the past year have to be applauded. But now is the time for nations within the region to contribute as well. Together with our international allies and the people they have fought so valiantly for, we can help rebuild the country. With the loyalists driven underground, a transitional government in place and the Red Wind on its last leg we must do our part to aid Coalition efforts. "

With 2 Specialised battalions being expected to deploy within the week Sihfrat Air Force Base is in overgear. A constant stream of transport aircraft,troops, military hardware and humanitarian aid personnel made for one incredibly busy night for the men and women of the 21st logistics brigade located at Sihfrat. 31 year old Base Operations commander Captain Amina Faraj seemed cheerful with the high levels of activity. As we stood on the tarmac with the sun now above us and watched the loading of two AN-124s side by side with several IAV Strykers and MRAP (Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected) vehicles she explained "you can almost feel the change in the air here. My teams are working round the clock to get these birds loaded and taken into the theatre. We are running slightly late. The soldiers from Viper Regiment are still at Camp Hishef in the mountains, 10 hours late but that isn't stopping us. I have grounded the 5 AN124s however the C-130s will take off as scheduled."

The conversation ends as a message causes her to head to the command and control building. While continuing my tour of the base outside i encounter a 23 year old Staff Seargent Duhart who had come out of the briefing room. When asked what he thought about the decision by the King he told me "I'm honoured to be serving my country and to have the chance to do my part for the good people of Al-Khalifiya to enjoy peaceful and happy lives. We are aware of the threats posed by the Red Wind however us specialised battalions were tailor made for counter-insurgency. I believe we have what it takes to make a positive influence in the ground campaign both against the Red Wind and for the relief effort."

Certain details about the deployment have remained secret. Such as the time frame for these operations or the bases where our forces will be deployed. With many experts calling this yet another break from tradition by the young reformer King, anxious to create stronger political and economic ties with a nation that for a long time threatened the use of a nuclear weapon against us. One thing is for sure though. The men and women of our armed forces are fully prepared for the road ahead however long it may be.

A black veil had fallen over Forward Operating Base Nightingale as the news had finally come in, Swordsman Seventh Degree Howard was dead on arrival. The cover up story that had been given out was that he had been on a midnight medical evacuation mission to rescue an allied force pinned down by insurgents, he had died running out into fire to drag a man to safety.

In the little shack that no one dared go near the DEMONs dealt with it in their own way, death was not exactly an uncommon thing for them, but it none the less weighed on them heavily. On their wall a patch had been pined, it was a black medical cross with a skull upon it and a medical staff stabbed through the skull.

Along the wall of the base there sat pairs of boots with rifles stuck into a block while dogtags hung off the rifle and a helmet rested upon the stock the only thing to mark Howard's was his rifle, in a display of remembrance those with a spare pair sat their boots and their tags at the memorial.

Cassidy, Rosaline being her given name, laid upon her bunk with her face buried in a pillow. She was both angry at Howard and guilty for feeling that anger as she crawled a picture in her fingers. She was wondering what was worse, to have loved and lost or never to have loved at all. If she had joined the Ventus Guard as a virga pilot she never would have met Howard and fallen in love with him, though she treasured his love greatly despite not giving the appearance of such. He had been evacuated after a bullet struck him in the shoulder and apparently internal damage was enough that he just died on the operating table. Somewhere cold and sterile.

She could not bare it! Cassidy's sobs brought her whole body to tremble as she covered her face with her pillow. After many hours of crying Cassidy finally ran out of tears and decided to think of the memories she had with him. The two had actually met by accident, she was taking muster and he had been late due to some fellas needing help with moving equipment. During inspection it was revealed Howard was missing his name badge as it had torn off and blown away in the wind, supply was too lazy to order him a new one and thus Cassidy gave him her spare. They became friends over time as something had just clicked between them, her dry attitude towards everything matched pretty horribly with his light hearted outlook on reality. Rumors went around eventually that they were married, thus why they had the same name, both denied the rumors at first, but in the end just lied and agreed that it was true.

He brought her lunch, stopped to see her every chance he could, soon this facade of a marriage became something tangible. Cassidy always figured she would marry a man some years older than her as that was the norm, however there she was falling in love with a man a year younger than herself. After one night accidentally being locked in the supply house they both had realized the secret being hidden, they both desired that the illusion they lived be real. While they never had a real ceremony Howard and Cassidy bought a set of rings and took their vows before the Lady; vows they would never break even after the divorce. He had been her best friend, it was as if he was made from her rib, she could not shoulder the weight of knowing he was gone. No funeral. Just an empty hole in her heart that would never be filled.

"Cass, you wanna talk?" One of her squadmates sat on her bed. "About what? The hole in my heart that will never be filled? There is not enough chocolate, ice cream, or porn to fill the crater he left in my heart." Cassidy curled up into a ball. Cassidy's friend reached over and wrapped her up in her arms, "Just let it out, I am here for you." Cassidy sobbed once more with renewed tears as the day went on. Crimson Platoon was hit pretty hard at the loss, but not even his friends took the hit as hard as this lass.

Rest never came upon Nightingale though, all hours of both day and night were occupied by medical examinations of the local populace as well as education classes. The agricultural program was coming along nicely, they had to dig down a good ways to find rich soil but once they did the farm plot took off. Local citizens were trained in self defense and those that proved able were even taught law enforcement, though they'd have to inquire to their government about obtaining the position. Firefighters and paramedics were trained by these skilled men and women. So far all the basic occupations were offered, teachers had been educated so that they could in return teach others who sought knowledge, farmers were taught valuable skills, and some higher education was offered also that centered around philosophy, economics, and other less tangible concepts.

Purple Cross volunteers and Anglician soldiers had grown to have a form of fellowship that only those who had faced great hardship together could hope of. Due to political tension and already two fatalities patrols had been suspended in the non-immediate area surrounding the base, Nightingale was isolated as the only soldiers that left were the guards that patrolled around the perimeter, people still came and went as they had before though, the people within watched from the walls as the war still waged on. The locals were nice though, that was the only thing that helped them, some of them would bring goats and other gifts to show their appreciation which the inhabitants of Nightingale accepted kindly, it was rude and offensive to refuse a gift; any animals they received were turned over to the agricultural program though as there was a risk about disease that the culinary specialists did not want to take when they still had plenty of supplies.